Final Fantasy VII: Another Story
by Mystwalker
Summary: Sequel to FFVII: Another Side. The group leaves the Forgotten Capital, leaving one of their members behind. Jenova is dead, or at least she appears to be, but does that mean that the Calamity approaching the Planet is no more, or are their trials just beginning? Bonds will be tested, drawn to the breaking point. In the end, will they survive? AU, ZxA, SxCi, ClxT, YxV, TxE.
1. File 037: Endings and Beginnings pt1

**Final Fantasy VII: Another Story**

**By:**

**Mystwalker**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Final Fantasy VII.

**A/N**: Well, here it is, guys. ^^ Disc Two. With any luck (and some creativity on my part), this is where the story will really start to diverge from the game. Enjoy!

**PLEASE INSERT DISC TWO TO CONTINUE**

**LOADING…**

XxXxX

**File 037: Endings and Beginnings**

Icicle Inn rose up out of the early morning mist, a collection of houses and buildings nestled in the shadow of the great mountains to the north. Exhausted and despondent as they were, a current of energy seemed to move through the group as they neared the resort, a few of them picking up the pace even against the frigid winds that moved down from the mountain. Sephiroth kept the same steady pace as he had before, keeping his eyes fixed on the village. He moved up the path, picking his way through the snow and ice as he led the way for the rest of the group. He looked around at the others, making sure that none of them were lagging. They were cold, he could tell that much. Despite stopping for winter clothes at an outpost before crossing into the region and wearing twice as many layers as before, they had still been walking for days in a region of the world most often traveled by vehicle or chocobo. And it was still not quite the right season to be this far north, not summer yet. But given the events in the Capital, he supposed they hadn't really had much of a choice.

And perhaps, Cissnei was right. Perhaps being out here would rejuvenate them in a way.

He watched as Cloud and Tifa moved near the rear of the group, standing close enough together to say that they were walking together, but maintaining a distance between them. Cloud walked ahead of her, and neither of them seemed much in the mood for conversation. Cid and Nanaki walked together, the pilot not having fully recovered from his fall and occasionally needing to lean against Nanaki for support. He grumbled about this, but didn't complain too much, and swore at Nanaki less than he swore at the rest of them when he sank down next to their campfires at night and lit a cigarette. Beside them walked Barret, hollow-eyed, his gun arm at his side as he glanced around for any threats. One didn't have to know too much about him to know that his thoughts were in Midgar, half a world away. Zack and Aerith walked together, Aerith dressed in dark pants and a parka the same shade of pink as her usual dress, and Zack in a dark blue jacket, lighter than he should have needed without his enhancements. The two walked holding hands, and Aerith occasionally leaned against him, but they didn't speak much, and it was clear that whatever distance had been between them, it had only been conditionally repaired.

There was still more talking to be done. But at the moment, they neededeach other.

His eyes moved over Vincent, a spot of red in the snow at the rear of their group. Unlike the others, he hadn't changed out of his usual garb when they stopped—it was entirely possible he didn't even feel the cold. He walked with his gun in his hand and didn't speak, not unusual for Vincent, but even more pronounced in the silence of the rest of the group. Yuffie walked a few feet ahead of him, her hands in her jacket pockets. Her expression was far-off, she didn't speak, and almost didn't seem to notice that they were nearing the Inn. Not too far from her walked Shalua, keeping her distance from the group like an outsider, her pack slung over one shoulder as her other arm hung limply at her side. It was a simple, unmoving prosthetic, but it was the best that could be done under the circumstances.

He kept an eye on Blaire, watching as the child picked her way carefully through the snow. She hadn't spoken much since waking up in the Capital, speaking to him only when spoken to and refusing to look him in the eye. She'd carried her sword, but only because he told her she needed something to protect herself with, and alternated between shrinking away from it as though it was a serpent or clutching it like a lifeline. He would have to decide what to do with her when they reached the Inn, he remembered. That wasn't a decision he was looking forward to.

The cold, hard-eyed people who trudged through the snow with him were certainly not the same people that had begged for a night off at the Gold Saucer. Once, he might have been glad for the change. Now, he wasn't so sure.

He glanced at Cissnei, who walked next to him, the lower part of her face hidden by a scarf against the wind. She met his eyes, and he caught a brief amount of sympathy there, wondered, for a moment, what _he _must look like, and decided it wasn't important. They were nearing the town limits, which meant warmth, and rest, and food, and a subtle shift of responsibility within the group, as he relinquished the control he had needed to have over them to make sure they arrived in one piece and Cissnei assumed the control she gained to make sure they didn't bankrupt themselves or get arrested by Shinra while they were there.

Just like they'd done countless times before, only with one less among their number.

He thought of the sword they had left behind in the Forgotten Capital, remembered countless others like it, lost in the jungles of Wutai, picked apart by scavengers who didn't know what they meant, or soldiers who knew what they meant had every reason to be enraged by them. He thought of Angeal, dead, and Genesis, also lost in his own way. He wasn't any stranger to loss, and knew that to some of the members of the group he appeared cold, unfeeling, pressing them on and pushing them through the wilderness without allowing them time to properly grieve.

But there was no time. They would move on. They had to. It was cold, but it was necessary.

They were still talking about the fate of the world.

Except he didn't know how they would proceed from here. Genesis and the other Tsviets were gone—they had not chased after them even during their relatively unprotected march across the Northern Continent towards this place. Jenova was…also gone. He didn't feel anything of her at all, not even the presence at the back of his mind that had been there for as long as he could remember. It was almost enough to make him believe she was truly dead. Almost.

Jenova was gone, Genesis off somewhere he couldn't see, and the Black Materia was missing. The world had not yet ended, Rufus Shinra continued to grow his empire, and the most powerful government to ever grace the face of Gaia still wanted them dead. The whole time they had been traveling, there had never been a plan, but there had at least always been direction, and now he felt robbed of even that, felt keenly for the first time that they had no _goals_, nothing beyond perhaps locating the Black Materia, and no next steps except maybe to pay a visit to Modeoheim. It was disconcerting, being caught in a world without a plan, like the last thread of sanity had been pulled out from under his feet. He focused on what little direction they did have, knowing that they needed to keep moving, one foot in front of another, or they would all die.

"…We're almost there," said Cissnei, her voice hushed almost as though she was afraid to break the silence.

He looked over at her, and nodded. She nodded back, nothing more needing to be exchanged between them.

He had that, at least, for what it was worth.

"Zack," he said, looking over at the other ex-SOLDIER.

Zack looked over at him, not releasing Aerith's hand. "What's up?" he asked, tilting his head quizzically. It was a gesture reminiscent of Zack's usual cheerfulness, but it rang hollow, not even reaching his eyes. Sephiroth pretended not to notice. More than anything else, Kunsel had been Zack's friend, and a man deserved the right to grieve.

"We'll head straight for the inn. Do you remember where that is?"

Zack nodded, looking back at the growing sight of Icicle Inn. "I'll take care of it."

"Will we be staying long?" asked Aerith, looking over at them.

Sephiroth frowned, but it was Cissnei who responded. "Probably not too long," she said. "A few days, but not longer than we have to." She paused. "They have hot springs up here."

"That might be nice," said Aerith, with the tone of someone who was trying very hard to mean it.

"Alright, that is _it_!" said a voice loudly from behind them. He turned—several did, looks of surprise on their faces. Yuffie stepped forward, waving a hand in the air with a frustrated look on her face. "I'm tired of moping. It's been eight days and we're all turning into _Vincent_!" She gestured at him dramatically. Vincent blinked, appearing more confused than anything. Yuffie pressed her hand against her chest. "_I'm_ going to the hot springs. _I'm _going to try to have _fun_! Who's with me?"

"Kid, shut up," grumbled Cid, rubbing at his temples with one hand and squeezing his eyes shut. "You're giving me a headache."

"Who asked you, old man?" asked Yuffie, rolling her eyes.

Cid grumbled something unsavory under his breath and rolled his eyes, but Yuffie's outburst had had its intended effect; there wasn't any real anger behind his words. He saw Tifa let out a chuckle and hide it behind her wrist, saw Zack crack a smile, even if only for a moment.

"I'll join you," said Cissnei, looking back at Yuffie. She gave the ninja a warm smile. "Why not?"

"Ah, hell," said Zack, picking up on what she was doing. "I'm in. Why not?"

"But not in the _same _hot spring, I hope," said Aerith sternly, grabbing onto his arm and causing another low undercurrent of chuckles to move through the group. Zack gave her a teasing smile.

"Not unless you want me to," he said.

That did it. Aerith let out a shocked gasp of _"Zack Fair!", _shoving him in the arm as laughter spread through the group behind them. It was broken, ragged laughter, not the same kind that had filled their campfires in the past, and laced through with new pain that hadn't been there before and old pains that still lingered, and it hurt, but the hurt in it was better somehow, as though it was a sign that the wound was finally healing. Tifa giggled, and Cid let out a raucous guffaw and Yuffie shrieked with hysterical laughter. Barret let out a belly laugh, Shalua smiled and hid her chuckles behind her hand, Cloud glanced away and hid his half-smile. Cissnei laughed softly beside him, and Nanaki let out something that sounded almost like a purr.

He might have smiled too. He wasn't sure. He kept his eyes on the road ahead of them, content, for the moment, that for better or for worse, they were healing.

In the end, it only took one word to set them on edge again.

They were walking into town, quiet again but not quite as somber, when a local woman saw them. She dropped the basket she was carrying, bread and fruits—precious cargo up here in the far north, they had to be shipped in—rolling across the snow-covered ground. She didn't bother to pick them up; she was staring right at Aerith. The group stopped too, looking at her. She was an elderly woman, strands of graying hair escaping from beneath her hood, but the eyes that stared at Aerith were still perfectly clear, and there was no mistaking the recognition in them.

She spoke one word.

"Ifalna?"

XxXxX

The smell of antiseptic assaulted her just as she walked through the sliding doors into the Shinra Building's medical floor. Elena moved past a nurse pushing a cart of medical supplies, not missing the way the nurse glanced at her as she moved. She lowered her gaze to the ground, self-consciously adjusting her suit, before straightening up and walking through the now-familiar halls. No one questioned her, for which she was grateful for. It seemed like even in the infirmary, the Turks' dark suit commanded respect and a wide berth.

Reno stopped her just as she rounded another corner.

The red-headed Turk stood leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway, looking more disheveled than usual. He held his ElectroMag Rod in one hand, holding it out in front of her to block her passage. The other rested on the back of his neck, rubbing at it as if it were sore before falling back to his side. He let his other hand fall as well, once it was clear that Elena had no plans of moving further forward at the moment.

"He's busy," said Reno, by way of explanation, jerking his head towards the closed door down the hall.

Elena nodded, saying nothing. She moved to stand against the wall opposite from Reno, and shifted uncomfortably at the way he was watching her. Because it was Reno, and because she was stubbornly trying to prove to herself that she had nothing to hide, she looked up, forcing herself to meet his gaze head-on. His lips curled up in a brief smirk, but it didn't reach his eyes. They were tired, she realized, as if he hadn't been getting enough sleep. Then again, he _was _technically second-in-command of the Turks, so maybe he hadn't. Reno had been at the hospital a lot lately—secret meetings with Tseng, conferences hidden under the excuse that he was still getting checked out from the Sector 7 battle. He and Rude didn't tell her anything, but she wasn't stupid.

She noticed.

The thought bothered her, that despite being a fully-fledged member of the Turks, there were still things they didn't tell her about. But now wasn't the time for that fight, so instead she folded her arms, looking back down the hallway at that closed door.

"He's still working?" she asked.

Reno shrugged. "He's Tseng," he said. "He doesn't stop working. You'd think two swords to the chest would make him take a break."

The way he said it implied that there was some old bitterness there. Elena thought about mentioning it, thought better of it, and glanced back down at the ground. She could still remember hearing Tseng's distress call, coming back to the Temple of the Ancients to find him lying there. He'd been barely conscious by the time she made it, and just as they were pulling away from the island, the entire Temple collapsed. She pursed her lips close together, trying to dispel the memory.

"Who's he talking to?" she asked, deciding to try again and work some information out of Reno. "Do you know?"

Reno shrugged. "Beats me," he said, lazily. "It ain't my business."

"You have to know something," said Elena.

Reno smiled slyly at her. "It's not a woman, if that's what you're asking," he said.

Elena flushed before she realized what she was doing. "Reno!" she said.

"Come on, Laney, everyone knows you've got it bad," said Reno, leaning back further against the wall. He watched her, continuing to give her a lazy smile. "Rude likes Tifa, if you're wondering."

"I wasn't, and I'm not here because of that!" said Elena.

"Then why are you here?"

Elena folded her arms, saying nothing. She thought back to what had had happened at the Temple, to the last few words Tseng had said to her before she left to deliver the pictures. He'd asked her out, or at least, she thought she did. But trust Tseng to not even mention anything about that now that he was awake. He tolerated her presence, didn't object to having her around when she wasn't working, but that was all.

"I didn't have anything better to do," she said.

"Uh-huh," said Reno, with a look that told her he believed exactly none of that. "Sure thing, Laney."

She decided against trying to convince him that it was true, glancing down at the ground before back up at him. "You look like hell," she finally said. "What's Tseng been having you _do_?"

There was that shrug again. "Oh, you know," he said. "A little bit of this, a little bit of that."

Her eyes narrowed at his evasive answer. "_Reno_," she said.

The smile faded from his face. He stared at her, his green eyes suddenly serious. Elena blinked, the sudden change in mood causing her to freeze. "Look, Laney, I'm doing you a favor," he said. "Stop asking questions, unless you want to get more than you bargained for."

Her mouth snapped shut. She thought about asking something, opened her mouth again, then closed it. It was so easy to forget sometimes that Reno could be serious, even dangerous, when he wanted to be. But when he glared like that, it was easy to remember. The glare faded, and she relaxed, slipping her hands defensively into the pockets of her suit pants. "At least tell me what it's about," she said.

"How do you feel about your sister lately?"

Lydia?

Elena really hadn't thought that much about her. She was supposed to be a traitor, all of the other ex-Turks were. Something that had happened with Veld, and the department before she joined. Tseng had struck some kind of deal with the company, allowing any of the other Turks who were involved to escape with their lives, as long as they stayed in hiding. The last Elena heard, it sounded like she might be getting married, to her old partner, no less. She hadn't really cared.

"I…don't really think about her much," she said.

"Good. Don't." Reno looked back at the door, watching as it opened. "You're up," he said.

Elena glanced at the door, watching as a man in a blue suit walked out of it. Her eyes widened a fraction as she recognized Reeve Tuesti, Director of Urban Planning, in the instant before he turned and began walking to the other side of the hallway. She thought about saying something, but Reno's mouth tightened suddenly in a way that made her keep her mouth shut. She looked back at him. "Didn't you need to see him?" she asked.

"Nah, I just needed to give him something," said Reno. He handed Elena the folder he was carrying. "Give that to him. He'll probably like seeing you more than me anyway."

She resisted the urge to open it, not when he was standing right in front of her. Instead, she tucked it under her arm, nodding. "Then, see you tomorrow," she said, walking towards the hospital room. For a moment, she thought Reno would follow her, but then she heard footsteps, and looked over her shoulder to see him walking away.

Elena took a breath, and faced the sliding door. She reached up a hand, knocking on it.

"Who's there?" asked a voice from inside. Elena winced. He sounded pained, but on the bright side, at least he sounded more lucid than he had yesterday. A part of her wondered whether the nurses had changed his pain medication or whether Tseng had refused any in order to stay sharp. Knowing him, it was probably the latter.

"It's Elena, sir," she said. She glanced down at the file, realizing suddenly that Reno had provided her with an excuse to be here. She found herself suddenly torn between hating him and buying him a drink. "I…have something from Reno."

"Come in," said Tseng.

Elena exhaled, pressing the button beside the door. The sliding door slid open, revealing a small, pristine hospital room. The rooms in this part of the floor were normally reserved for important Shinra staff or business partners, of which the Director of the Turks certainly qualified. Because of that, it had none of the austerity of the regular run-of-the-mill rooms. It still was obviously a hospital, but it was spacious and private, with a window that overlooked the city of Midgar.

Tseng was sitting up when she walked in. He had something in his hand—who had brought that to him? The sight of it made her pause. It was a single yellow flower, a bright yellow bloom that she recognized from previous visits to the slums.

One of Aerith's flowers.

She looked away, the sight of it making her feel alienated, for a reason she couldn't explain. She tried not to watch as Tseng tucked the flower into the vase beside his bed, tried not to wonder who else might have sent him flowers—certainly not Reno or Rude, and she hadn't done it—maybe it was the hospital staff, as a courtesy. She was still thinking about that when Tseng cleared his throat.

"You have something for me?" he asked.

"Oh, right!" She'd nearly forgotten. Elena stepped forward, handing him the file that Reno brought her. "Sorry," she said.

He took it from her, searching her face. Elena avoided his eyes, taking a step back. She watched as Tseng drew the file to himself and opened it once, glancing inside of it. He closed it again, setting it aside before she could catch a glimpse. "Thank you," he said, in a tone that sounded too much like dismissal. He looked far-off, as though he had a million things on his mind. Elena shifted in place, unsure whether she should stay or go. At length, she walked over to a visitor's chair and sat in it, staying at the edge of the seat in case he told her to leave. When he didn't say anything after a while, she relaxed, sinking further into the seat.

"How are you feeling, sir?" she asked, when the silence dragged on so long as to become uncomfortable.

"Better," said Tseng, in a tone that made her question that. She thought back to the pain in his voice earlier, and realized that she wouldn't put it past Tseng to refuse painkillers if he felt they were impairing him. It would be out of place to ask, though, so she twisted her fingers around in her lap and watched the sun start to set from the window.

"Can I get anything for you?" she asked, after another long pause.

"Not right now," said Tseng.

She exhaled, wondering if she should have left after all. Her eyes moved again, looking at the flowers by the bed. They were artfully arranged, she realized, something tugging at the back of her memory. She'd grown up in Midgar, so flowers were not something she was used to seeing, but her father had been important in his day…as a child, she and her sister had read a lot of books, done a lot of traveling. She couldn't help but feel as though the arrangement was important, somehow. It was dominated by a small purple flower, in clusters, but the sight of that one yellow bloom was enough to give her pause. She looked away again.

Elena hesitated, then tried another tack, bringing the conversation back to work. "I looked through Deepground, like you said," she said. "It appears to be abandoned. Er—by the Tsviets, I mean. The regular SOLDIERs are still there. They…didn't object to the entrance being closed off."

He nodded, but didn't say anything else. Elena saw him glance briefly at the file on his bedside table, a small, very subtle tell—they were always subtle with Tseng—but it was enough to set her nerves on edge again.

"What aren't you telling me?" she asked, her voice tight. "_Sir_," she added as an afterthought, as Tseng glanced at her.

"Excuse me?" he asked. His tone was a warning, but it had been days, and Elena had been sitting on this since she first brought him back from the Temple—no, she'd been thinking about this before that—and she couldn't take it anymore.

"You, and Reno, and Rude," she said. "You're doing something, and you're keeping me in the dark. I've been one of you for months, and I still feel like you don't trust me. You send me around delivering papers, like an errand girl, while Reno and Rude do all the real missions. It's like I'm only half a Turk, or—!"

_Or a replacement for my sister._

Even in her head, the words were ugly, and she clamped her mouth shut, trying to escape them from coming out. She could feel herself shaking, and she clenched her fists, resolutely not looking at Tseng. That did it. He was about to tell her off. She was going to be fired for sure.

But Tseng didn't say anything for a few long moments. When he finally spoke, it was with a calm, methodical voice, the voice of the Director of the Turks.

"You want a real mission," he said. It wasn't a question.

She nodded, looking up at him.

Tseng glanced pointedly at the file by his side. "Take that to the slums," he said. "Do it tonight, don't let anyone see it. Make it look like you're going to Wall Market—Reno and Rude usually play cards at the bar there. Join them. I'll write down where I want that delivered. Read it, memorize it, burn it. Deliver the file, don't stay too long, and come right back. Do you understand?"

She nodded, a little bit stunned. Elena rose, taking the file carefully and tucking it into her suit jacket. Tseng watched her, nodding with something that might have been approval, and for a little while, she wasn't aware of much else.

It was only as she was leaving the room that she recognized the flower she had been looking at. It was a Wutaiian bloom—_Aster tataricus. _

_Shion_.

XxXxX

Elmyra watched as the little girl in front of her, freshly scrubbed and in new clothes with her hair neatly braided, started to eat, and marveled at the resilience of the child. When Shelke first brought her in, she had been terrified and shaking, but now that she had bathed and changed and was obviously somewhere safe, she had relaxed, and had started eating the food in front of her. The Turk next to her, Chris, echoed her thoughts, propping her injured leg up on a chair.

"She's a trooper," she said.

Elmyra nodded, watching the girl. Marlene's actions reminded her of another little girl, one that she had met on the street not so long ago, in front of a train station. She felt a pang of worry, wondering where that same girl was now, and what she was doing. The woman exhaled, her lips tightening in a frown. It wouldn't do her any good to sit and worry about Aerith now. They would hear something soon, or they wouldn't. She stood up, walking over to Marlene.

"Marlene, sweetheart," she said, sitting down next to the girl. "Are you feeling okay?"

Marlene sat back, swallowing her food. "Mm-hmm," she said. "Shelke helped me!"

"Yes." Elmyra's eyes moved unconsciously towards the door on the other side of the hall, behind which Shelke was still being interrogated by Shion and Eira. She tried to keep her own personal opinions of the matter out of her face, turning towards Marlene. "She did."

"Is Shelke in trouble?" asked Marlene, frowning.

"No, she's not," said Elmyra, picking up a napkin and wiping at Marlene's face. "You should finish your food."

Something in her tone apparently made Marlene not believe her. The girl frowned, turning towards her. "Shelke's not a bad person," she said. "She's my friend. Tell Shion that."

"I think Shion already knows that, dear," said Elmyra.

Marlene folded her arms. "I want to talk to Papa," she said. "Can I talk to him now?"

For response, Elmyra glanced at Chris. The Turk frowned, leaning back in her seat. "We still can't get a secure connection," she said. "But we're working on it."

"Soon," said Elmyra, tucking a strand of Marlene's brown hair behind her ear. "I promise."

"Okay…" said Marlene. She glanced back at her plate. "Shelke's going to be okay, right? Promise?"

Elmyra nodded, placing her hand on Marlene's shoulder and squeezing lightly. She glanced at Chris, who was starting to get to her feet. "I'm gonna go see what's going on," she said, starting for the locked room. "Why don't you put the kid to bed?"

Elmyra nodded again, sitting back in her seat and watching as Marlene finished her food.

XxXxX

On the other side of the door, Shelke looked away from the conversation, looking back at the pair of Turks who were facing her. She remembered them, she realized, or at least one of them. He was older now, and something appeared to be wrong with one of his hands, but she thought she remembered his face, fragmented, as though from another time. Before she was a Tsviet?

Did a time like that exist?

"Tell me again," the man was saying. "About Deepground and Jenova."

Shelke stared at him, then opened her mouth and began to speak…

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. File 037: Endings and Beginnings pt2

**Final Fantasy VII: Another Story**

**By:**

**Mystwalker**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Final Fantasy VII.

**A/N**: I'm going to be spending a little bit of time on Icicle Inn, just so you know, because I think it's a sweet parallel, and a lovely what-if scenario ("What if Aerith was alive to learn about her past?"). So I hope you guys don't mind if we linger here for a couple of files, or one file and an interlude.

Thanks go to **JazzQueen, CupofTeaforAliceandHatter, Guest, viralhybrid29, SpiritDreamWarriors, DarkSeraphim1, Riku Uzumaki, DJ Meltdown of Ground Xero, Irish-Brigid, Eavenne, Draconic, **and **Gameplayer23 **for the reviews and support! Thanks for continuing to support this project!

**Irish-Brigid, **yep, Shion is a unisex Japanese name that means aster, as in the flower. So yes, he was named after a flower. ^^ Since his description on the wiki says that he appreciates beauty, I thought it was fitting. Not to mention, the Japanese, and I guess the Wutaiians in this case, don't consider flowers to be exclusively feminine.

**Draconic, **thanks, I'm glad you liked Reno. I actually have a very limited knowledge of Kingdom Hearts (I know who Axel is, but I've never really finished a game), so I wasn't thinking that. It just seemed like a Reno thing to do, lol. As for Kunsel, I first thought of him taking Aerith's place because that scene wouldn't be complete without some sort of tragedy for the group, and everything else fell into place from there.

**Gameplayer23, **Ifalna _is _dead, but if you go to Icicle Inn…well, I'll just let you read. Enjoy!

XxXxX

**File 037: Endings and Beginnings**

"_Ifalna?" _

Silence fell. Sephiroth stepped aside as the woman stepped forward, moving towards Aerith. She barely seemed to notice the food that she had dropped around her. Her eyes were on Aerith's face. Zack squeezed Aerith's hand, not letting go, but taking a small step back as the woman approached, letting Aerith face her.

"N—No," said Aerith after a moment. She shook her head. "No, I'm—not Ifalna. I'm Aerith. Her daughter."

"Oh." The woman's eyes misted over, and she shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, dear," she said. "You look just like your mother."

She moved to turn away, bending down to pick up her groceries. Before she could take a few steps, Aerith moved forward, letting go of Zack's hand to take her arm. "Wait," said Aerith, her eyes wide. "Please. You knew my mother?"

"Of course I did, dear," said the woman, turning towards Aerith. "I knew her and your father very well. This town isn't so big that you can live here for years and not know your neighbors. Why, I remember when you were born—." Her eyes moved over Aerith's face, and slow understanding dawned on hers. "You…didn't know?" she asked.

Aerith shook her head. She took a step back, releasing her hold on the woman's arm. "My mother never told me. I just assumed—I thought I was born—." _-in the lab_. The words were on the tip of her tongue; Sephiroth could see that. The few times she'd spoken of her past, she'd spoken as if it began in Hojo's lab, with her and her mother. She'd never mentioned anything before that, never even mentioned a father. He'd understood, or he thought he had. It had taken him thirty years to find out who his parents were.

"—in Midgar," she finished instead, her voice strangely soft.

"Midgar?" asked the old woman, surprised. "Is that where you ended up? Why on earth would Gast take you back there?"

_Gast. _

Sephiroth froze. In the back of his mind, he remembered the scientist from his childhood, the only one who seemed to remember that he _was_ a child. He'd been five when Gast left. Just old enough to remember him. Everything else he'd learned about the man had been in later years, when he learned that Gast had been the lead scientist in the Jenova Project, and the scientist who had been most interested in studying the Cetra.

Cetra.

Ifalna.

_Aerith_.

Across from him, Aerith straightened up, looking over at him. Their eyes met, and before he could say anything, she turned back towards the old woman, her eyes wide and her face pale. "…Gast?" she repeated.

"Yes," said the old woman, looking at her with a strange expression. "A nice man. A little eccentric. He used to work for Shinra, you know. He loved your mother very much, you know. We could all see that. And you…" A wistful smile touched her face. "…why, he was head over heels for you."

"I'm sorry," Aerith took a deep breath, her shoulders shaking. "Where did you say they lived?"

"In that house over there," said the old woman. Her expression quickly changed to one of worry. "Did something happen to them?" she asked. "Is that why you don't know any of this?"

Aerith never replied. Before the old woman could finish her sentence, she was gone, running up the hill and through the snow towards the small house. Cissnei turned and followed, with Zack quick at her heels. Sephiroth wasn't fully aware of starting to move, but before he knew it, he was running. He ignored the group's shouts to come back, leaving Tifa and the others to deal with the woman as he followed Aerith to the house.

He reached it at the same time as Zack did, to find that Aerith had already thrown the door open. The inside of the house was dark and dusty, with the sort of air that told him no one had lived here for years. It was, like most of the Icicle Inn cabins, a small house with wooden floors, except that one wall of the house appeared to be taken up mostly by machinery, the same way that some of Shinra's labs had been. The lights still worked; he flipped the switch to find that Aerith was already kneeling in front of a shelf of tapes, a stack of them in her hands. She went through them with an air of desperation, her hands frantically moving from tape to tape, her eyes scanning the labels and the dates.

It was a desperation he recognized. Zack moved forward, but Sephiroth stopped him before he realized what he was doing, placing a hand out in front of him to stop him from moving. He stepped forward, and dimly heard Cissnei taking Zack by the arm, pulling him back with a few murmured words of reassurance.

Aerith didn't even look up as he approached, her hands still clutching the tapes. They had stopped on one in particular, and he saw her shoulders shaking. Sephiroth glanced down and saw the label on it, in a messy scrawl that was so suddenly familiar that something inside him ached to remember it.

**GF JP I043**

**02/12/1985**

**AERITH – 5 DAYS**

**She smiled.**

He looked towards the tapes she had discarded, and realized that they were all labeled with the same naming scheme, except that most of them referred to Ifalna. All of them had notes, although most of the earlier ones recorded more scientific things, such as _"origin of Cetra"_ and _"communication with Planet / Planet as semi-sentient being"._

The ones that were labeled Aerith read things like _"she laughed,"_ or, _"she looked at me"._

There were so few of them, in comparison to the others.

Aerith said nothing, still staring at the tape in her hands. He didn't interrupt her, his eyes moving over the rest of the room. He took in several other familiar things he had almost forgotten, an empty mug by the desk with the chemical symbol for caffeine printed on it, notes neatly stacked and put away, observation notebooks labeled and organized by date. Gast had always been neater than Hojo, Sephiroth remembered, and yet, his lab had never seemed cold or clinical, the same way that Hojo's lab had, or sloppy, like Hollander's. In Gast's lab, you could feel as though this was a place of learning, as though Gast was still in it for the pursuit of knowledge, and for the good of the world. He had a sudden memory of Gast letting him sit on his knee at his desk in the Shinra Building, showing him the notes he was working on. They had been completely incomprehensible to him at that age, but he remembered Gast patiently explaining to him that everything living thing in the world was made up of unique DNA, and that by studying it, and learning to read it, you could tell a lot about another living thing.

It was his first science lesson. It was also his only one. After that, after Gast left, his education had been given over to whatever was essential for the military, and anything more he had learned about science, he learned from reading on his own time. The memory surprised him, because it wasn't something he had thought about. It wasn't even something he thought he remembered, until he was standing here.

That was when he saw the blood.

His eyes moved past Aerith, towards the dark spots that had been there for so long that they had stained the wood. Aerith hadn't seen them yet, but Zack had. Sephiroth caught it in the way the ex-SOLDIER glanced at them, his mouth tightening. He looked back at Sephiroth, then at Aerith, and said nothing. The others crowded in behind Zack. Sephiroth hadn't noticed that they were already there—so lost was he in memory.

Shalua was already examining the machines, her pack set on the ground as she studied them. "These are mostly recording equipment," she said. "A few medical instruments too. They still work, I think, if you want to view those tapes. It shouldn't take me too long to get things running again." Her eyes moved over Aerith, who still hadn't responded.

Sephiroth frowned, glancing back at the rest of the group. Cissnei looked over at them, stepping forward. "I don't think now is the best time—," she began.

"No," said Aerith, straightening up. She turned towards Shalua, her shoulders shaking.

"No?" Shalua repeated, a look of confusion on her face.

"I want to see them," Aerith clarified. She stepped forward, holding the tapes out to Shalua. "Play them for me."

XxXxX

Chris stepped into the small office that Shion, Eira, and Shelke had occupied, closing the door behind her. The room had not been built to hold more than one or two people at once, and with four, it was already crowded, but neither of the other two ex-Turks told her to leave. Shion glanced at her, but said nothing as she took up a spot against the wall, folding her arms and leaning against it to take the pressure off her bad leg. She rubbed at it unconsciously—even with the support Shalua had built for her, it still hurt sometimes—and turned to face Shelke Rui.

She'd only seen Shelke in the one picture Shalua had of her, but the resemblance between the sisters was staggering. Shelke still looked like she couldn't be a day over nine, some accident caused by whatever concoction of mako Hollander had given her, but without the mako blue eyes and if she had been allowed to grow to her true age of sixteen, Chris had no doubt that she'd resemble her sister. The eyes were all wrong, though. Shalua's eyes were probably the most expressive part of her—always searching, looking, imploring even when her face said nothing. Shelke's eyes were cold, bright, and alert. If there was any feeling there, it was well hidden. The young Tsviet glanced at her, and when no one dismissed her, glanced away as if she was not there, speaking to no one and everyone at once as she began her story. Chris noted the lack of any recording equipment in the room. This would be completely off the books then. She settled down, listening with renewed attention.

"The man known as Genesis Rhapsodos first appeared in Deepground approximately three years ago," she said. "Nero and Weiss were sent on a surface mission to retrieve him. He was found unconscious in the mountains near the Nibelheim Reactor."

"Three years?" asked Shion.

Shelke nodded. "Yes," she said.

Glances were exchanged, each of them shaking their heads at the others. Chris frowned, thinking back to that time. Three years ago, all of them but Cissnei were still in active duty. There had been suspicion in the department back then, some of it directed towards Veld, who was still the head, but even then, a mission like that would have gone through the Turks. It should have.

Maybe it did.

"Who gave the order?" asked Eira, always the practical one.

"The Restrictors," said Shelke, blankly.

"And who ordered the Restrictors?" asked Eira again.

Shelke glanced at her. "At the time," she said. "There was only the Restrictors. We did not question."

Shion exchanged a glance with her. She recognized that look, the way his mouth tightened as his eyes met hers and he looked away. He didn't say anything, but she had been his partner for long enough to understand his suspicions. Veld. If there was any member of the Turks three years ago who would have held more secrets than any of them, it would have been Veld.

"Go on, Shelke," said Shion.

Shelke nodded. "Genesis was in a severely weakened state when he arrived in Deepground. He was quickly given over to medical care. He did not regain full consciousness for approximately three weeks."

"Did he show any signs of degradation?" asked Shion.

Shelke shook her head. "No. It was specifically noted that he did not."

"And he eventually recovered?" asked Eira.

Shelke nodded. "Yes," she said. "Within the span of two months, he had regained full mental capacity. After six months, he had almost regained complete physical strength. In eight months, Weiss included him in our number."

"Weiss made him a Tsviet?" asked Chris.

"No," said Shelke. "But Weiss introduced him as their brother, and said that with Genesis's help, we would shake off the control of the Restrictors and remake the world."

"Remake the world?" asked Shion, frowning at her. "How?"

"Weiss ordered it. I did not question."

There was something in the way she said it that gave Chris pause. A frown, perhaps, some hint of emotion. "But someone did," she said.

"There was a Tsviet," she said. "A nameless, colorless one. He questioned Weiss's plan. So we killed him."

Silence fell for a moment. They were, each of them, Turks, they'd all heard worse than this before. But it felt strange, almost, hearing those words coming from so young a face.

"How?" asked Eira.

"We sacrificed him to the Restrictors," said Shelke, calmly, as though she were giving a mission debriefing. "Weiss ordered me to use a Synaptic Net Dive to hack into the Restrictor chip implanted in his brain and plant false memories about a 'sister' that had been killed by the Restrictors and erasing all memory of our plans for rebellion. With that, the Tsviet was driven to an extreme rage. He and Weiss fought the Restrictor, and he sustained a mortal injury that allowed Weiss to kill his opponent. Then, he died, and Weiss took his place as leader of Deepground."

"What happened after that?" asked Shion.

"We ruled Deepground for the next year. At the time, Shinra did not question us. Weiss, Nero, and Genesis also used that time to tell us the details of their plan. In his time above ground, Genesis had been in contact with a being called Jenova, who was being held in the Nibelheim Reactor, but who had now been transferred to the Science Department in the building above. Jenova wished to destroy the world and use it as a vessel to travel the cosmos. She had promised Genesis that if he aided her in this, she would help him remake the world, and leave him, and us, to rule."

"And you believed her?" asked Eira, folding her arms.

"I followed Weiss," said Shelke. "If you wanted to, perhaps you could say I believed him. But we realized that even after defeating the Restrictors, we couldn't leave Deepground. Not with Shinra still strong over our heads. So we decided that the best thing to do would be to offer our services to Shinra for the meantime."

"And Shinra accepted," said Shion.

"Sephiroth was already a rogue entity at the time, and his presence made the President nervous. It didn't take long for him to agree to devote us to his capture. Both Weiss and Genesis are skilled at persuasion."

"So that was that, then?" asked Chris, frowning. "They just let you go?"

"There were some dissenters," said Shelke. "Tseng of the Turks was one of them. He argued that allowing us onto the surface would create a bigger problem for the company than Sephiroth posed."

Chris snorted. "Well, he was right about that," she said.

"Tseng argued that if the Tsviets were to be used in this, it shouldn't be without restriction. So he was granted the same power as the Restrictor was, the ability to end our lives if we became problematic."

"Which is why Weiss attacked him," said Eira.

Shelke nodded. "The Restrictor chip has limited range, which is partly why Deepground is so confined, but Weiss couldn't afford to have Tseng loose with the Restrictor controls. So he attacked him and destroyed the controller. Tseng was supposed to die."

"Well, he pulled through alright," said Chris, frowning. "He's in the hospital now."

Eira rolled her eyes. "Like any of us believe he pulled through that on his own," she said.

Glances were exchanged, a single word went unspoken: Aerith. Their minds touched upon it briefly, before pushing it away. Tseng's feelings for the flower girl had always been something that seemed off-limits to them, something that was beyond even the usual office gossip. Shion moved on.

"So, what now?" he asked. "You mentioned that Jenova was defeated at the Forgotten Capital. What does that mean for the remaining Tsviets and their plans?"

"I don't know," said Shelke. "After the events of the battle at the Forgotten Capital, I am no longer in Weiss's confidence." Which, Chris thought, was a fancy way of saying that Weiss would love to see her dead.

"Your best guess," said Shion.

"I am not in a position to make predictions," said Shelke, coolly. "However, if I were to hypothesize, I would say that Weiss would continue to pursue dominance. He would consider this a setback, not the ultimate failure of his goals."

"So he's still an active threat," said Shion.

"Yes."

"And what about you?" asked Eira, frowning. "Where do you figure into all of this?"

"I no longer obey Weiss's commands," said Shelke, "nor do I associate myself with Deepground or the remaining Tsviets."

"And why not?" asked Eira, again.

Shelke glanced away. It was the first sign of emotion Chris had seen in her throughout this entire interview. "My reasons are my own," she said. "Suffice it to say that I no longer agree with Weiss's logic."

"You realize," said Shion softly, "that we cannot just allow you to leave."

Shelke nodded, calm again. "I factored that into my plans when I brought Marlene here."

"Then you'll know it's nothing personal," said Shion. "We can't trust you yet."

Another nod. "Understood."

"Eira will escort you back to your quarters," said Shion. "You're to remain in them for the rest of the night, until we decide what to do with you."

Shelke said nothing, allowing Eira to lead her from the room. Chris moved away from the door, letting the pair of them walk through. She followed Shelke with her eyes, still watching her even as the door closed behind her. When the last of their footsteps had faded away, she turned towards Shion.

"She'll be gone by morning," she said.

"I know," said Shion, sitting on the desk. Now that Shelke and Eira were gone, he looked older and more tired than she had ever seen him. He raised his good hand to his face, pushing his glasses up and pinching the bridge of his nose. "We can't prevent Shelke from leaving if she wants to—not without causing a scene, which is something we can't afford in our current situation. We don't have the manpower to keep a guard on her 24/7."

"So we're just going to let her go?" asked Chris.

"We won't make it obvious," said Shion, his voice hushed as he glanced at the door. "But I'm curious to see where she goes, if she thinks no one is following her."

Understanding dawned on Chris. She stared at Shion. "She's bugged."

"An internal tracking device," said Shion. "When we treated her wounds." His eyes moved towards the files on the table, the ones that they had collected in their few weeks here. "She may lead us to AVALANCHE, or to the other Tsviets. Either way, I'd consider it a plus."

Chris frowned, folding her arms. "She's not gonna fall for that," she said. "That kid might look like a little girl, but she's smarter than you give her credit for. She's probably already figured it out."

"Maybe," said Shion with a shrug. "Maybe not." He frowned, looking at Chris, and she was startled to realize that she recognized the expression on his face. It was one she'd seen on him multiple times before, after difficult missions. Guilt. Weariness. Regret. "I'm inclined to let Shelke go," he admitted.

The pieces came together. She'd always suspected, ever since hearing Shalua's story, but now she knew. "It was you," she said. "You're the one who brought her to Deepground in the first place."

"It was Veld," said Shion, pushing himself up off the desk with his good hand. He straightened up. "I stood by and watched. Take the first watch tonight. I have business in the city."

Chris watched as Shion moved past her, letting him go. His hand moved almost unconsciously to the weapons rack by the door, brushing over the curve of his sword before he pulled it back and let it fall to his side. She pretended not to see. Her frown deepened, and she wondered what his business in the city was, or how, after so many years of partnership, they had drifted so far apart.

The door echoed in his wake and she sighed, pushing her thoughts from her mind as she went off in search of Eira.

XxXxX

Midgar's slums were always hot and humid, the air pressing in close on all sides and making it difficult to breathe. Elena found them hard to deal with in the winter, when the air was lighter and the occasional cool breeze made it down from the surface to the streets below. Now that winter was over and the world was inching closer to summer, they were becoming almost unbearable again. She'd spent time down here before, working as a bartender in the Wall Market bar that the Turks frequented, so she was somewhat used to it, but that didn't mean she particularly liked it. She remembered not being able to understand, while in high school, why the Turks spent so much time in Wall Market. Tradition or not, weren't there bars above the Plate that were more suitable than the one here?

Maybe it was because of the respect they commanded down here. Up above the Plate, they were a curiosity, like a guard dog that one wasn't sure would bite or not. She'd always found the looks the businessmen gave her when she walked around in her suit disconcerting, like they expected her to attempt to assassinate them at any given moment, but she had no illusions about the fact that those same men would sell her out to Shinra in a heartbeat if they thought she was having dealings under the table that the President wouldn't approve of. They had power, they understood how the balance of power went.

Down here in the slums, everyone respected the Turks, and no one messed with them. They'd carved out their niche in Midgar's underground, and it was here that they could deal secretly, out of the public and even the company's eye. Maybe that was something about the Turks that the slum-dwellers understood better than Shinra did.

Her hand strayed to the place on the inside of her suit jacket where the file was hidden, next to her gun. She wondered if that was why Tseng had sent her down here, if there was something the Turks were dealing with that they didn't want even Shinra to know about. But what? Something to do with her sister, and Shion, and Reeve Tuesti. She couldn't even piece those elements together in her head, let alone try and figure out what she might have to do with them.

Elena made the turn into Sector 6's slums, moving against the throng of people heading towards Wall Market. She wasn't due to meet Reno and Rude for another hour, and the instructions Tseng gave her were on the other side of the Sector's slums, away from the wreckage of Sector 7. She made sure to avoid the main streets, not wanting to be seen. Word got around fast in the slums, and she was still well-known in this area. A Plate girl whose sister was a Turk didn't get a job bartending in the slums without everyone for miles around hearing about it. She remembered getting the job just to spite Lydia. Her older sister had never liked her sticking her nose where it didn't belong.

_Tough luck, sis_, she found herself thinking, as she approached the drop-off location. _At the rate this is going, I just might end up saving you. _

She didn't know what Lydia had to do with any of this, but she had no illusions about the tone Reno had used with her. Whatever was up, it was big, and she _was _going to get to the bottom of this, whether Reno and Rude wanted to or not. With ten minutes to go before the time Tseng had given her, Elena pushed open a side door, entering the small building.

The first floor of it was a small, dimly-lit bar, and it smelled strongly of smoke. It was also empty, apart from a handful of drunks at a side table playing dice, and one old man at the counter. The patrons looked up as she entered, and just as quickly went back to their drinks or their game. Elena moved through the room, ignoring them and ignoring the smell of liquor and smoke that seemed to permeate every surface in this place. An old TV in the corner crackled the latest news from Shinra.

She glanced over it, recognizing the story that Rufus had had them air, and ignored it, taking a seat at the bar and ordering a beer. It was swill, but she didn't trust the water in this place, and it was just bad manners in the slums to walk into anyone's bar without buying anything. The bartender—a bearded man with the hollow-eyed look that she recognized from the long-time slum residents—gave her her drink and slipped into the back room. She let him, already getting the sense that this bar was more than it appeared to be.

Drink in hand, she settled down to wait.

Her contact arrived precisely ten minutes later. Elena spotted her entering the room, using the staff entrance instead of the main door—a curiosity she noted. It wasn't hard to pick her out of the crowd. She wore a rough-spun wooden cloak that hid her face, and gloves that ran nearly up to her elbows. The body beneath the cloak was slender, and obviously female, but she carried herself like someone who was confident of her ability in a fight, and said nothing as she slid into the chair next to Elena. She said nothing for a while, but didn't order a drink, which in Elena's opinion was more telling than anything else she did do. When she spoke, her voice was flat, and artificially soft, as though she didn't want to give anything away.

"You have something for me?" she asked.

"From a mutual friend," she said, saying the pass phrase that Tseng had given her. She reached into her pocket, drawing out the file. The woman laid one slender hand on the tabletop, but didn't reach for it.

"I'll make sure he gets it," she said, which was the phrase that Elena had been told to expect.

Her grip tightened on the file, and she found herself possessed by the sudden urge to reach out and grab the woman by the shoulders, to turn her towards her so that she could see her face. She knew the Turks dealt in secrets, but she'd always expected that becoming one would make her part of the privileged few that knew the secrets, not just kept out of the dark from more of them. For a moment, the urge to know what was going on was so strong that Elena almost did it, but she remembered Tseng's instructions, and she stopped herself just in time, laying the file on the table. The woman picked it up, and it slipped neatly beneath her cloak. She turned to go, and Elena caught the barest hint of brown hair from beneath the cloak, of sharp brown eyes that she thought she recognized, thought she remembered from something, somewhere before, from the time before she was a Turk.

Then before she could say anything, the woman was gone.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	3. File 037: Endings and Beginnings pt3

**Final Fantasy VII: Another Story**

**By:**

**Mystwalker**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Final Fantasy VII.

**A/N**: The dialogue isn't exactly the same as in the game in this scene because the translation, as we all know, is a little buggy, so I tried to edit it slightly so that it flowed a little better. Hope you don't mind! I also changed "crisis from the sky" to "Calamity from the skies", since that seems to be the preferred version of it in later games.

Some quick announcements. I've decided to make Wednesday the official update day for this fic, unless I can't, so check back every Wednesday for the new chapter, and if the update isn't up, an explanation will be up on my author page as to why. Also, there's a quick oneshot up called **Winter Flowers**, which is in the same vein as **Inheritance**. Check it out and leave a review if you feel like it! Thanks!

Thanks go to **CupofTeaforAliceandHatter, JazzQueen, Dark Seraphim1, Gameplayer23, Riku Uzumaki, GirlEnigma, fandomkitty462, **and **DJ Meltdown of Ground Xero **for the reviews and support! Always appreciated!

**Gameplayer23, **it wasn't Shotgun, but it wasn't an OC either, and that's all I'll say on the subject. ^^

XxXxX

**File 037: Endings and Beginnings**

Yuffie compared the set-up of the next few moments to a movie theater, but in Sephiroth's mind, it was more like a mission briefing, with all of them crowded around the room's small screen. There were hardly any chairs to go around, but Cid sat in the chair by the desk, his spear across his knees as he rubbed at an ache in his leg. The other chair had been offered to Aerith, but she declined, so Barret sat in it, resting his gun arm on the nearest table and watching the screen.

Aerith stood near the front of the room, Zack next to her. The two of them were holding hands again, their fingers interlaced with each other's as they waited for Shalua to finish with the tapes. Sephiroth found himself watching with anticipation as well, his eyes on the screen in front of him. That surprised him, because Gast had been such a small part of the whole of his life that he'd thought those memories from childhood were behind him. But now that he had the option to, he realized how much he wanted to know. What had happened to the man he admired? Why did he leave? He recognized, as he had in Nibelheim, that the knowledge he sought would only hurt him, that nothing good could be recorded on those tapes, but he still needed to see, needed to _know_.

In that, perhaps, he and Aerith understood each other.

He watched as Aerith stood, pale-faced and shaking slightly as Shalua straightened up and pushed the tape fully into place. The wall of machinery came to life with a hum, lights flashing and screens glowing, the sharp scent of ozone filling the air. Zack squeezed Aerith's hand tighter in support, raising her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles lightly. He looked away, feeling as though he was intruding on something private, and was suddenly aware of Cissnei's presence next to him. She didn't say anything, and neither did he, but she watched quietly by his side as the tape began to play, and he was strangely grateful for her presence.

He turned his attention the screen. The first of the tapes showed Gast busy at work adjusting the angle of the camera, while a woman in a red dress stood in the center of the room, waiting. He heard Aerith's quiet intake of breath and recognized the woman as Ifalna, looking exactly as she had when Jenova had taken over her form. The sight of her made him remember the battle at the Forgotten Capital, and he frowned, reminding himself that Ifalna was Aerith's mother _before_ Jenova wore her face.

Gast, for his part, looked exactly as he had the last time Sephiroth had ever seen him, so for a moment it was as though he'd never left. He finished adjusting the machines, walking back to the center of the room to face her. This was one of the earlier tapes, he noted, as he glanced at the date in the corner of the screen. There was still a distance between the two of them, the cool professionalism of the interviewer and the interviewee.

"_Camera's ready!" he said, looking back at Ifalna. "So, Ifalna, please tell us about the Cetra." _

_Ifalna spoke with the air of someone who had been rehearsing her speech for a long time before the cameras came on. She stood with her hands folded in front of her, and her back straight, the same way that Jenova had, but there was a warmth in her voice that Jenova had never been able to fully replicate. She did look remarkably like Aerith. _

"_Two thousand years ago, our ancestors, the Cetra, heard the cries of the Planet…"_

He stole a glance at Aerith as Ifalna started speaking to catch her watching intently, her lips pressed together and her grip on Zack's hand so tight that her knuckles were white. Cissnei shot a glance his way, and he shook his head slightly in answer to her question, looking back at the screen.

"…_The first ones to discover the Planet's wound were the Cetra at the Knowlespole." _

"_Tell us, Ifalna," said Gast. "Where is the land called the Knowlespole?" _

"_Knowlespole refers to this area," said Ifalna, "The Cetra then began a Planet-reading." _

"_I can't explain it very well," said Ifalna. "It's like having a conversation with the Planet...It said something fell from the sky making a large wound." She shook her head, trying to collect her thoughts. "Thousands of Cetra pulled together, trying to heal the Planet…But due to the severity of the wound, it was only able to heal itself after many years." _

"_Do the Ancients…" Gast paused, frowned, and shook his head, "…rather, the Cetra, have special powers to heal the Planet?" _

"_No," said Ifalna, "it's not that kind of power. The life force of all living things on this Planet becomes that energy. The Cetra tried desperately to cultivate the land so as not to diminish the needed energy…" She trailed off, lowering her eyes to the ground. He recognized her expression as the same one Aerith wore, when she was trying to explain something she couldn't find the words for. _

"_Here, close to the Northern Crater, the snow never melts," said Gast. "Is that because the Planet's energy is gathered here to heal its injury?" _

_Ifalna didn't look up, speaking to something on the floor instead of right at him. He recognized that as the exact moment that the rehearsed quality of her speech vanished, leaving something tentative and uncertain in its place. "Yes," she said. "The energy that was needed to heal the Planet withered away the land…then the Planet…the Planet tried to persuade the Cetra to leave the Knowlespole, but…" _

_Her voice shook. It startled him, because she was talking about events that had happened so long ago, long before she could possibly have been born. Gast's expression mirrored his; the scientist stared at her for a moment, looking both startled by her reaction and saddened by the fact that he had caused it in the first place. Sephiroth saw him reach for her, hesitate, then step back. _

"_Ifalna," he said. "Let's take a break." _

"_No." She shook her head. "No, I'm alright. When the Cetra…" She took a deep breath. "…were preparing to part with the land they loved, it appeared…Our dead. It looked like our…our dead mothers…and our dead brothers and sisters…Showing us spectres of their past…" _

He felt a chill run up his spine at those words, remembering the way Jenova had taken on Ifalna's appearance. Did she always take the form of the dead? Or was that just her way of disarming the living? Because he knew now that Ifalna was talking about Jenova, knew it in his bones. He thought that Gast must have known by then too.

"_Who is the person that appeared at the Northern Crater?" he asked. _

"_The one who injured the Planet," said Ifalna, her voice shaking. "The "calamity from the skies", as we called it, came." She buried her face in her hands, leaning back against the table. "It approached in the form of a friend, deceived them, and finally…gave them the virus. The Cetra were attacked by the virus and went mad, transforming into monsters. Then…just as it had at the Knowlespole, it approached the other Cetra clans…infecting them…with the virus…" _

_She trailed off, unable to speak. Gast stared at her, noticing that she was shaking. _

"_You don't look well," he finally said. "Let's call it a day." _

_The camera blinked out. _

"Some of the tapes are broken," said Shalua into the silence that followed. "And a few others have been confiscated, from the looks of it. But there's a few that still work. I'll play the next one." She moved forward, picking up the next of the tape cases. No one said anything, hardly anyone moved in the interim. Even Cid looked subdued. He watched, out of the corner of his eye, as Blaire drew closer to the screen, then looked away, turning his attention back towards the video as it began to play.

_This time, Gast and Ifalna were seated at the center of the same room they were standing in. The lights were on, and the sky outside was dark, a steady sheet of snow building up against what was visible of the windows. Ifalna had a blanket across her lap, and a cup of something warm in her hands. The two of them were sitting closer together now, although still far enough apart to keep up an air of professionalism. If it hadn't been for the subject matter at hand, he might have thought they were an ordinary couple sitting by the fire for a warm cup of tea. He glanced at the date at the corner of the screen. It was just a few months after the first one. _

_Gast, as always, was the first to speak. "Ifalna, can you comment on the thing known as 'Weapon'?" he asked. _

"_Yes, Professor," said Ifalna. "The one you mistook for a Cetra…was named Jenova. That is, the 'calamity from the skies'. The Planet knew it had to destroy the Calamity. You see, as long as Jenova exists, the Planet will never be able to fully heal itself." _

_Gast ran his fingers around the edge of his cup, frowning as though her words disturbed him. He settled back into his seat the same way Sephiroth had seen him do when he was thinking of something. "Back then," he said. "The Weapon was a weapon the Planet produced of its own will?" _

_Ifalna hesitated. "Yes, but…there are no record of the Weapon ever being used. A small number of the surviving Cetra defeated Jenova and confined it. The Planet produced the Weapon, but it was no longer necessary to use it." _

"_So the Weapon no longer exists on this Planet?" asked Gast. _

"_The Weapon cannot vanish. It remains asleep somewhere on this Planet. Even though Jenova is confined, it could come back to life at some time. The Planet has not fully healed itself yet. It is still watching Jenova." _

"_Where is the Weapon?" asked Gast, asking the question that Sephiroth himself would have asked. The idea of something like that running around unchecked was almost as bad as thinking about Jenova. _

_Ifalna glanced down at her cup. "I don't know," she said. "I can't hear the voice of the Planet well. Times…have changed. The Planet…is probably watching the situation closely." _

_She took a deep breath, then seemed to collapse, pressing her face into the palms of her hands. Gast watched her, then took a breath, barely audible over the static the old recording equipment produced. "Thank you, Ifalna," he said. "That will be all for today." _

_This time, just before the camera blinked out, he reached forward, a concerned expression on his face as he took her hand. Their fingers closed around each other. _

Shalua moved forward again, to fit the next tape into place. Sephiroth took the time to consider what Ifalna had said, about the Cetra and the Weapon. Across from him, Aerith stood still as a statue, her fingers closed tightly around Zack's. He glanced at her only once to see her eyes still fixed on the blank screen, then glanced away. His eyes met Vincent's, who was watching from the back of the crowd, his arms folded. There was recognition in the gunman's eyes, and Sephiroth remembered the story he had told, about first meeting Lucrecia while being asked to supervise Gast. They must have spoken at least once or twice.

It was almost surprising, how intertwined their worlds had been.

Shalua stepped back, and the camera turned on again, revealing an entirely different scene.

_Gast was moving around the room very quietly, adjusting the angles of the recording equipment to focus on the small bassinet in the corner. Inside, the camera focused just long enough to reveal an infant in a faded pink blanket, her eyes closed and her head turned slightly to one side. He heard Aerith's sharp intake of breath, followed by a quick undercurrent of murmurs moving through the crowd, before someone, Cid, from the sound of it, hissed at them angrily to shut up. The group fell silent just as Ifalna made her way up the stairs from the main house, walking over to the man currently standing over the crib, adjusting the baby's blankets ever so slightly and taking care not to wake her. _

_Ifalna wrapped her arms around Gast's waist, and he straightened up, placing his hand over hers as he leaned over to look at the baby. The camera angle was awkward, made more to view the child than to view them, but it couldn't disguise the contented smile on Gast's face. _

"_What are you doing, Profes—I mean, honey?" _

"_Oh, I'm thinking of taping it on video," said Gast, taking a step away from the crib so that he could face Ifalna fully. "But the video's not working right." _

"_What are you going to tape?" asked Ifalna, frowning. "Is there something I still haven't mentioned?" _

"_No, that's not it," said Gast, smiling teasingly. He stepped out of her arms, facing the crib. "I'm going to record my beautiful daughter." The smile faded as he watched the child, becoming something else as he gently moved a few strands of hair off her head._

Aerith made a soft, choked sound at the back of her throat, raised her wrist to her mouth so that there wouldn't be anymore. Zack pulled her close and she leaned into him, resting her head on his chest and taking what support he offered. Something in his own heart rang hollow watching the look on Gast's face, the way he was completely taken in.

Parental love, he realized.

So that was what it looked like.

Cissnei said nothing, but her hand slid into his, He didn't hold back, didn't grip her hand the same way Aerith held Zack's. But neither did he pull his hand away.

"_When she's sleeping," Gast was saying on the screen, "she looks just like an angel…" _

"_First, we have to figure out her name," said Ifalna, sternly. "We can take the video later!"_

"_I've already decided," said Gast. "I said if it was a girl, it would be Aerith. That's that!" _

_Ifalna rolled her eyes, resting her hands on her waist, but there was no real edge to her anger, just playfulness as she shook her head at him. "You are __**so **__selfish," she said. "But Aerith is a good name!" She straightened up, offering him a playful smile. "Well, it's a good name," she amended, "considering it came out of that forgetful head of yours!"_

"_Right," said Gast, with the sort of tone that told Sephiroth the response was automatic, and he had been too engrossed in Aerith to pay any attention. He paused, his eyes widened, and then he turned towards the machines as though forgetting what he was doing there. "Oh, right! The video tape—." He ran over to the machines, bumping into the crib in the process._

_The camera turned off, just as Aerith woke and started to cry. _

"There's one more tape," said Shalua, into the silence that followed. She glanced at Aerith, as if waiting for confirmation. "It looks like the latest one."

Aerith nodded in assent, still not looking up from where she rested against Zack. Her hand tightened around his, but she kept her eyes on the screen as it lit up once more.

"_Video again?" asked Ifalna, incredulous. "You just got done taping!" _

"_Please don't say it that way," said Gast, turning towards her. "It's our lovely daughter, both yours and mine. Don't you want to capture her childhood?" _

"_If you keep doting on her like that, she won't grow up to be strong," said Ifalna, folding her arms. "Aerith is different from the other children. I wonder what dangers await her…" _

"_Never say that!" said Gast, turning towards her. "I will protect you and Aerith no matter what! You and Aerith are my only treasures. I'll never let you go…" _

The couple on the screen embraced, but Sephiroth couldn't help feeling as though there was something wrong with this video tape. The quality was off, somehow, the video grainier and the sound more warbled, as though this tape had gotten damaged over the years while the others hadn't. He glanced at the date on the corner of the screen. February 27, 1985. And Shalua said it was the last one…

His suspicions were barely starting to take shape when the knock on the door came, causing Ifalna and Gast to look up. Without thinking, his fingers tightened around Cissnei's, just briefly, but long enough for her to understand what he thought was wrong. Her eyes moved from his to the screen, and she quickly put two and two together, because her mouth opened in an 'o'.

He knew that would have been the moment to stop the tape, but he couldn't look away.

"…_I'll send them away," Ifalna was saying, drawing his attention back to the tape. She shook her head, pulling herself out of Gast's arms. "Yes. At once! Who the devil—?" She pulled open the door, and although the cameras weren't focused on her, her gasp was unmistakable. _

"_It—It's them," she said, taking several steps back and reappearing on screen. _

_Hojo followed, flanked by a pair of infantrymen. They took up the bottom part of the screen, rifles in hand, as they trained them on Ifalna and Gast. Gast immediately stepped forward, throwing an arm out and pulling Ifalna behind him. He faced Hojo. _

_Somewhere in the distance, the infant Aerith began to cry. _

_Hojo let out a cackle, seemingly unfazed by the murderous look in Gast's eyes. He looked past the other scientist, staring straight at Ifalna. "I've been searching for you, Ifalna," he said. "Or should I say, Cetra? Long time no see, Professor Gast!" _

"_Hojo," Gast said, with the sort of tone someone might use to address something they had scraped off their shoe. "How did you know?" _

"_Believe me," said Hojo, smirking. "I had to turn over a stone or two to find you. Two years, I waited. That's how much I wanted this new sample." He laughed again. Ifalna shuddered, taking a step back and pressing her face into her hands. _

"_New sample?" asked Gast, outraged. "You don't mean Aerith!" _

"_Aerith?" asked Hojo, grinning at him. "What a nice name." He laughed again, turning aside from the camera as if this was a joke he could only share with himself. _

"_That's it!" said Gast, making a sweeping gesture with his hand. "I'm severing all ties with Shinra. Hojo, please leave." _

_Hojo turned towards Gast, and Sephiroth saw him begin to raise his hand. With a chill, he understood the gesture—the order to shoot—but before he could complete it, Ifalna rushed out from behind Gast, throwing herself at his feet. Her hands clutched at his coat desperately. She was shaking. _

"_Please," she said. "Aerith has nothing to do with this. All you want is me, right?" _

"_Ifalna!" said Gast. _

"_I'll need all of you for my experiment." said Hojo. He grinned down at her, then kicked her away, sending her stumbling back as he raised both his hands and made a sweeping gesture towards the camera. "You understand, don't you, Professor Gast? We can change the future of the Planet!" _

_Gast was barely listening. He was crouched down next to Ifalna, supporting her with one arm around her back. Sephiroth saw the gleam of something metallic in his hand, and realized that he was trying to conceal a gun. _

Sephiroth stared at the tape, realizing now how this was going to end. Something cold settled into the pit of his stomach, and he glanced next to him as Aerith let out a choked whimper. She was standing apart from Zack now, her eyes glued to the screen, all the color drained from her face. Her shoulders were shaking.

"Stop the tape," he said.

No one moved.

"_Don't worry, Ifalna," Gast went on to say. "I'll take care of this." _

"_Please, don't put up a fight!" Hojo was saying, in the tone of voice that told Sephiroth he wanted nothing more than just that. "I don't want any harm to come to my precious sample." He turned towards the camera, as if noticing it for the first time. "Hmm? What a funny looking camera. Destroy it." _

There was a gunshot, and the video feed went out. The audio, however, continued, the sounds filling the room. Hojo's laughter, heavy footsteps.

"Stop the tape!" barked Sephiroth, more urgently this time.

"_Be careful with her!" Hojo was saying. _

"_Wh-What are you doing, Professor?" asked Ifalna, uncertain. _

"_Ifalna, take Aerith and run!" shouted Gast. _

_A gunshot rang out, a thud. _

_The tape died. _

Sephiroth stepped back from the tape deck, pulling his hand from the machinery. Sparks flew in his wake. He stared at them, wondering if he might have slammed his hand down too hard. For a moment, there was silence. Then, the group began to mutter and move, released from the hold of whatever spell the tape cast on them.

"Wh—What was that for?" asked Yuffie, the first to speak.

In response, he glanced at Aerith, who was shaking visibly now, her arms wrapped tightly around herself and her fingers pressing into her skin. Zack blinked and stared at her, as if only now noticing how bad she had gotten.

"Aerith?" he began, reaching for her.

She twisted out of his reach, running for the stairs. No one said anything as she took them two at a time, disappearing into the main house. A door slammed.

Silence fell.

**END FILE**


	4. Interlude 008: Echoes of the Past pt1

**Final Fantasy VII: Another Story**

**By:**

**Mystwalker**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Final Fantasy VII.

**A/N**: So, in case you haven't noticed, this Friday is Valentine's Day! And since I don't have any particular Valentine's Day plans, I've decided to jump on the fanfiction bandwagon and write a (late, it's going to be late) Valentine's special. There's a poll up on my profile asking which of the five ships in this AU you'd want a Valentine's special of. Please go and vote, and on Friday, I'll take the poll down and start working on a quick one-shot for the top ranking ship. Have fun!

I'm also starting a new novel project soon, called **All That Remains**. I'll begin outlining in March and will probably begin writing in July. Since you guys have been such a wonderful online audience, I wanted to extend an opportunity to have you guys shape an original fiction story, so I'm taking suggestions for characters. ATR is set in a slightly Dissidia-style universe, where the main characters are separated into two sides and fighting to shape the world. The characters all have aliases that sound almost like class names, like Paladin, Jester, Harper, Raider…etc, which give some hint as to their fighting style, but they have real names and histories too.

That's all I have so far, but I'd like you guys, if you're interested, to send me character profiles to add to the list. So if you want to be part of this, please send me a PM with character name (real name not required, but alias required), gender, fighting style (magic and most medieval fantasy weapons go, if you have ideas for a gun…etc., just tell me, I won't say no outright), history (not required), and a little bit of an idea as to whether they'd be on the Dark or Light side of the conflict. (Think more Order and Chaos than Good and Evil, although some insight into Good or Evil would be cool too). There will be 22 characters in total, and I already have ideas for some, but I'll try and incorporate as many as I can.

I don't know if this will get published, but if it ever does, anyone who makes a character will be included in the Acknowledgments. And if you have a character 'in play', I'll send you chapters of the rough draft as I write (if you're interested, of course). I can't guarantee every character will have a major role in the plot, so some may get red-shirted, but I'll try and include as many as I can. I also reserve the right to change characters slightly to fit the world better, and have them evolve according to the story.

So if you have an OC in your head that you're dying to see in a story, or you just want to make a character to fight alongside/against Paladin (heavily based on Arielle Fair from my **Our Generation** fic) and Jester (based on Ciel Gainsborough, who some of you mayremember from my now defunct **Sins of the Father**), don't wait, PM me ASAP! Looking forward to reading your characters!

Thanks go to **CupofTeaforAliceandHatter, Meteor Panda, Guest, JazzQueen, Draconic, Riku Uzumaki, SpiritDreamWarriors, DJ Meltdown of Ground Xero, WanderingStarmaster, Symphony's Feather, Eavenne, **and **Gameplayer23** for the reviews and support! Sorry for the confusion, guys, but no one was actually knocking, the knocking came from the video tape.

XxXxX

**Interlude 008: Echoes of the Past**

He found Aerith sitting in the middle of what must have been the living room, a photograph in her hands. The living room was dark except for the light streaming in from one window, and covered in the dust of decades without use. Unlike the upper part of the house, this clearly bore the marks of being ransacked. The ground was littered with papers and broken pieces of ceramic and glass—something crunched under his feet as he walked. A handful of books had been pulled from the bookshelves, and now lay scattered on the floor. The disorder reminded him of the scene he had found in Nibelheim, in the labs beneath the mansion. But this wasn't like that.

If Gast had been alive, it wouldn't have come to this.

He stopped in front of Aerith, waiting. He didn't want to break the silence. He knew, probably better than most, what it was like to want to be left alone, and he knew better than most why she shouldn't be left completely alone.

"How old were you…" she finally asked. "…in this picture?"

Aerith held the picture out to him. He took it from her, pretended not to notice the tears that had made their way down her face, the redness in her eyes. The picture was of him as a child, small, with short silver hair and wide green eyes. Gast was in the picture with him, crouched down to face the camera, with an arm around his shoulders. The professor was smiling; he merely looked stunned, as though he had never seen a camera before. The bottom of the picture was stamped with a date. He glanced at it, handing it back to her.

"Three," he said.

Aerith nodded, taking the picture from him. She made a choked noise in the back of her throat, settling back against the table she was sitting on. She kicked a broken cup out of the way, taking a long, shaky breath.

"It's funny, isn't it?" she asked, dragging her hands over her face. "I remember my mom dying. I was there. I can remember that day, and it makes me sad, but now, I'm—." She shook her head, setting the picture down. Sephiroth waited for her to collect herself, waited until the hands she had clasped together stopped shaking, and she looked up again. "I never really cried for my mother. Does that make me a bad person? I can see her," she said. "She was dead, but she was never really gone. My—my father—."

She trailed off, shaking her head again, as if the unfamiliar word was enough to get her to start.

"I guess part of me just wishes I had the chance to know him," she said, speaking more to the floor than to him.

"I knew your father," Sephiroth said. He hesitated, his eyes moving towards the picture she had laid face down on the table beside her. "For a long time, I wished he was mine."

"Well." Aerith looked up, smiling hesitantly at him. "You would have made a good big brother."

He said nothing. He couldn't have. What could he have said in this place, with Gast's memory pushing at him from every angle? What could he have said to her, to those words, when all he could think of was the last few seconds of the tape, those moments when Hojo and Gast were face-to-face, and Gast had the gun? He looked away from Aerith, scanning the house, his eyes seeming to find every crack, every broken object, everything overturned and out of place.

"We should clean up," he found himself saying, the words sounding stiff and wooden on his tongue.

"Sorry?" asked Aerith, puzzled. He looked back at her to find her looking over at him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. He looked away again.

"Professor Gast…wouldn't have wanted this place to look like this," he said. "We should clean up."

He took a step forward, not waiting for her response, and began picking up the discarded books, stacking them into neat piles. For a while, there was silence, the only sound coming from the rustling of paper in his corner of the room. Then, he heard the sound of cloth against wood as Aerith slid herself off the table, heard a crunch as her feet landed on the floor.

"I'll find a broom," she said, her footsteps quickly fading away.

XxXxX

Outside the house, the air was bitingly cold, but standing as they were in the middle of town, it seemed warmer than it had been earlier that day. Cissnei lifted her gloved hands to her face, blowing into them and watching her breath steam. After more than a year away, she had almost forgotten what constant cold felt like, and Icicle Inn was further north of Modeoheim. She wrapped her arms around her middle to keep warm, walking up to where Zack waited in front of the house. She spared a glance over her shoulder to make sure that the others were heading for the inn, before turning her attention to the ex-SOLDIER.

Zack sat on a pile of crates on the street corner in front of Gast's house, his eyes fixed on the thin stream of smoke that curled up from the chimney. His foot was up on the crate in front of him, his arm draped across his knee. He didn't look up at her. Cissnei knew she wasn't what he wanted to see. She leaned against one of the streetlights, watching the house as well and waiting. Aerith had gone down into the main house about an hour ago She'd also, Cissnei recalled, asked to be left alone.

But when Sephiroth had gone in after her after sending everyone else back to the inn, she hadn't turned him away.

Her hand went up, toying with the pendant around her neck as she had done so many times since the Forgotten Capital. A part of her mind recognized that she was developing a habit, something that could become dangerous in the long run, but at the moment, she didn't care. It gave her something to do, as she rolled the silver wing between her fingers, tugging at the chain and watching the smoke leave a thin trail in the air.

At length, Zack sighed, turning towards her. "That doesn't bother you?" he asked, inclining his head towards the house and the smoke.

Cissnei's fingers went slack around the pendant. She frowned at Zack, meeting his eyes. "No," she said. "Should it?"

"I don't know." Zack shook his head, looking away from her and down at the ground, where tires had left muddy imprints in the snow. "I'm not even sure it should bother me."

"It's Sephiroth," said Cissnei. "When it comes to competition for Aerith, he's not the one you need to be worried about."

"I know," said Zack. He shook his head, looking back at the house. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, and she could hear the longing in it. "I wanna be there for her, Ciss. But she won't let me in."

Cissnei's expression softened, her arms falling to her side. She stepped forward, walking towards him. "I know it's hard," she began.

Zack shook his head, interrupting her. "Back at the Forgotten Capital, she went with Sephiroth instead of me," he said. "How am I supposed to feel about that? I know there's nothing between them, Ciss, don't get me wrong, but part of me feels like she trusts him more than she trusts me."

"Zack…" Cissnei reached him, coming to stand in front of him. "Aerith trusts you," she said. Looking at him now, and thinking about Aerith, she felt almost sure. "I'm sure of it."

He gave her a thin smile. "Thanks, Ciss," he said. "But you don't need to lie to me."

"I'm not," she said. "I've seen the way she looks at you. Zack, look at yourself. You run yourself ragged worrying about the rest of us. Have you ever thought that maybe Aerith doesn't _want _you to worry about her? That maybe, on some level, she's trying to take care of you?"

Zack looked up at her, his eyes widening slightly. Cissnei took a breath, wondering if she had said too much, then let it out, realizing that maybe she hadn't said enough. She thought about the way things had been before Nibelheim, back when she and Zack were in Costa del Sol together. The way he spoke about Aerith, the look in his eyes when he talked about her. She didn't want that to go away, she realized. After everything that Zack had been through, he deserved to be happy.

Sephiroth was right. They were stronger together. But not like this. Like this, it felt as though they were one wrong move from falling apart.

She went on. "The things she's learned about herself, the things she's been through—it's not right, but I can see _why_ she wantsto spare you the worst of it. Sephiroth's been through some of the same things. If anyone can understand what she's going through right now, he can. But that doesn't mean you can't be there for her, or that she doesn't want you to be. It just means that she needs a little space right now."

"I…" Zack opened his mouth, closed it again. "I didn't think about it that way."

"Of course you didn't," said Cissnei, smiling faintly. "You're a guy. You're all oblivious."

Zack stared at her, and his expression changed into a grin. "Oh, are we?" he asked. "Is that why it took you and Seph so long?"

She couldn't help it. She flushed. Cissnei turned away the second she felt the heat on her face, but that only made her blush harder. "That—," she said. "That's not what we're talking about here!"

"Mm-hmm," said Zack. "So, uh, what _were _you doing in the shell house back then?"

Cissnei rolled her eyes. "Honestly," she said. "It's like I'm working with Reno again."

"But more fun, right?" asked Zack.

"Well," said Cissnei, with a secret smile. "More respectable, I'll give you that."

"Respectable?" Zack blinked. "What were you guys _up to _back then?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" asked Cissnei, turning around. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, walking away, and was rewarded by the sound of Zack scrambling up from the crates behind her.

"Cissnei?" he asked. "Wait, Ciss—!"

"Yuffie, Cloud, Tifa, and I are going snowboarding," she said, not looking back. "You're welcome to join us, if you can pull yourself away."

Zack hesitated, then hurried to follow. Cissnei hid her smile, waiting for him to catch up.

XxXxX

They were about two hours into their task when Aerith found the journal. It was buried beneath a pile of other books and papers in the bedroom, and so went unnoticed until the two of them had made the living room somewhat more presentable. It was an old leather-bound journal, old enough that some of the pages were beginning to crack, and the writing on the first page was faded. But she recognized the handwriting as the same as on the tapes, a thin, spidery scrawl, written in lines so straight that they might have been drawn onto the page. The first entry was dated 1982, a full three years before she was born. She smoothed out the page with one hand, beginning to read.

_I know now that I must leave Shinra, _Gast had written. _Hojo grows more ambitious by the day. I cannot allow Ifalna to fall into his hands. I can't even begin to think of what he might do to her. I can't be the only one unsatisfied with the answers he's given re: Dr. Crescent, and the dismissal of young Grimoire's son. It saddens me that a young scientist who has shown so much promise could turn to things like this. _

_Bugenhagen has sworn to help me. I know that the director of the Turks is aware of my plans, and that he does not disapprove. By the end of the year, I'll hand in my resignation. My only regret is that I can do nothing to save Sephiroth, but the boy is too heavily guarded. The plan is risky enough as is. And Veld will not help me if I try. His attachment to his former partner apparently does not mean that he will risk angering the entire company to help me…_

The entry ended. Aerith flipped the page, finding that several other pages had been torn out. The next entry resumed sometime in 1984, where Gast was talking about how the snow had gotten so thick that neither he nor Ifalna could leave the house. She skimmed the page quickly before moving on. Apparently, the two of them had spent the evening discussing the Cetra, a conversation that, due to the lack of power, hadn't been transcribed on tape. She flipped the page to find that the next few pages had also been ripped out.

The next entry was one from later in the year of 1984. Aerith read on.

_Ifalna told me today that she was pregnant. I'm happy, of course, there isn't a doubt about that, but as I sit here and think about it, the full implications of her news starts to sink in. I've never considered being a father—not recently, anyway, and the more I sit here and think about this, the more I realize what kind of world I've left for my child to grow up in. _

_This is the kind of world where a species can be pushed to the brink of extinction for the sake of material gain, a world where the ethics of science are defined by whoever can pay the most gil, where children not yet born can be irrevocably altered for the sake of power. I find myself thinking about Sephiroth and that child in Hollander's lab more and more—what was done to them. At the time, I didn't think about it. Perhaps that's my greatest failure. But now...what was done to Lucrecia Crescent, to that woman in Junon, to Gillian Hewley—even if they consented, I can't imagine putting Ifalna—putting my child through that. _

_Is this my legacy? Am I leaving my child a world where he or she will never be safe, a world where money and power are more important than truth, than knowledge, than basic human decency? We went into this seeking only truth. How did we go so wrong? _

The words on the page began to blur. Aerith blinked, realizing that her eyes had filled with tears as she read. She flipped the page quickly, taking a breath to compose herself, to hold back the tears. She didn't even know why she was starting to cry again.

The pages turned, stopping at the last entry. Aerith drew in a shaky breath to prepare herself, smoothed the page out in her hand, and read.

_February 24, 1985_

_Aerith is sleeping. Like this, she looks so peaceful. The storm outside doesn't bother her at all. It's hard to imagine something as fragile as this existing in this broken world. _

_I told Ifalna that I would watch Aerith while she slept, using the excuse that she hasn't had many chances to sleep since the birth (neither of us have). The truth is, I can't sleep. My thoughts have been running circles in my head. I can hardly begin to sort them out, but it feels as though no matter how tired I am, I wouldn't be able to close my eyes. Here, alone in the dark, confronted with the reality of Aerith, I find myself thinking about the same things I thought about, in the months before she was born. _

_Today, I dug out my old notebooks from the Jenova Project, brushing the dust off them and reading them for the first time in three years. I remember the things we did, how exicted we were for our discoveries. Myself, Lucrecia, Hojo, Hollander, even old Grimoire had his observations in once or twice. I wonder if any of us knew how this would turn out—Grimoire's son MIA, Lucrecia's child a ward of the company, and Aerith...I can't even begin to think about what would happen to Aerith if Shinra got their hands on her, what they would do. I'd die first before I let that happen. She's so small, so innocent. She has no idea what I've done—what we've done—what kind of world this is. _

_I want to keep her locked away, to keep her from ever experiencing the sort of pain we've experienced—the sort of pain we've __unleashed__. I want to keep my past—mine and Ifalna's pasts separate from her. I wish that she was born in a world where Shinra and Hojo and Jenova didn't exist, a world where she could grow to be like the gentle people in Ifalna's stories, but I can't. I can't spare her from this forever, the same way I couldn't save Sephiroth three years ago. _

_He'd be eight now. I still wonder what happened to him—how he is. I wonder if he's angry that I left, if he still remembers me, or if Hojo and Shinra have driven me completely from his mind. They've probably started training him for the military now—I have no illusions as to what Shinra's goal in supporting Project S really was. I wonder if he still likes to read, or if Shinra has stripped him of even that. That child has a sharp, inquisitive mind, but knowing Shinra, they would erase everything that has nothing to do with their goals, and they have no use for childlike curiosity. _

_If I could do it over again, I would change everything. I would save them, both of them. I'd take them away from there, take them somewhere where they could both be children and grow up in peace. _

_If I could change this world—_

There was a hole in the page, as if Gast had pressed the tip of the pen down hard enough to pierce the page and the one directly underneath it.

—_But I can't. I'm too old. I've made too many mistakes. _

_Aerith, Sephiroth, I'm sorry. You may both grow up to hate me. I deserve it. This world, the world you live in, is my legacy. No matter what else it became, I was the lead on the Jenova Project. Whatever evil results from it results from my negligence, and whatever pain it causes you is my fault too. _

_This world is my gift to you. _

_And the two of you are the only good things I've given the world._

The entry ended; the remaining pages were blank. Aerith felt wetness trickle down her cheek and raised a hand to her face to find that she was crying. She closed the journal gently and tucked it into the crook of her arm, feeling a hollowness beginning to build up inside her, a fresh ache and an old yearning. She wiped her eyes with her hand and imagined growing up in this house with parents who loved her. To not have her first memories be in Hojo's lab. To not have to see her mother die.

She imagined Sephiroth being here with them. What would it have been like, the four of them together? What would he have become, if he hadn't been forced into SOLDIER? What would either of them have been, in a world without Jenova?

It was entirely possible that they would never have been born.

The thought sent a wave of cold through her, and she pulled the book closer to herself. Without Jenova, there would have been no Jenova Project, no impetus to start studying the Cetra. Gast and Ifalna would never have met and Lucrecia and Hojo would have never had a child together. Whatever else they were, they were children of _this _world. They wouldn't have existed anywhere else.

She could feel it at the back of her mind, the same thing she felt in the Temple of the Ancients, in the Forgotten Capital, the feeling that the Planet was pushing her, leading her somewhere. But to where? To do what? What could they do, in this world that had created them, but rejected them at the same time? What could they do in this broken, dying world?

_Fix it. _

The thought didn't come from her, but it was strong enough that for a moment, she thought it had. Aerith felt a chill run though her, and she held the book tighter, grasping at that feeling, at that fleeting presence in the back of her mind.

_How? _she wanted to scream at it. _Fix it how? _

But it was gone, just as Sephiroth appeared in the doorway, frowning at her. She turned towards him, and noticed his eyes moving to the book in her hands, before making their way back up to her face. She took a deep breath, and wondered if she looked like she'd been crying?

"What?" she asked, hoping her voice was steady.

"Come downstairs," he said. "You need to see this."

Aerith nodded, wiping at her eyes as he turned to walk away from the door. She followed Sephiroth down the stairs, still holding the book. He needed to read it too, she decided. A part of it was meant for him. Sephiroth lead her past the living room and kitchen, looking much better now, and further down the stairs into a section of the house that looked like it had been meant for storage. The place was still a mess—she doubted it had ever been clean, but Sephiroth had moved some of the things out of the way, exposing a door set into the wall. Her eyes immediately moved towards it.

"It was hidden by those crates," said Sephiroth, gesturing to the ones they moved. "Mostly old scientific equipment, probably out of date even in 1985. I don't think Shinra got very far into this part of the house. They would have wanted to leave before people noticed they were here."

She nodded mutely, part of her knowing that he was explaining it more for his own benefit than for her own. He had the look on his face that told her he had stumbled across something he didn't understand, something he couldn't easily explain. And when he opened the door, she realized why.

Here, in the Knowlespole, where the snow never melted, where no matter what time of year it was, it was cold. Here, high above the tree line, where the ground was frozen solid, where nothing could grow.

Here, in this small room in the basement of this small house, in this place where no one had set foot in over twenty years.

Here, there were flowers, and they were blooming.

Aerith stood in the doorway, her hands over her mouth as she stared at the flowers poking up from the ground, beautiful blooms, in shades of white and red and pink and orange. She hadn't seen so many different flowers, not in her church, where only those yellow wildflowers grew, not even in Gongaga, in the jungle where it looked like every sort of plant conceivable existed. And she knew, as soon as she saw it, she knew where they had come from.

Her mother. Ifalna.

Tears trickled down the backs of her hands, and she realized she was crying again.

XxXxX

It wasn't even midnight by the time Elena found herself in Tseng's hospital room again, watching the city lights from his window. Visiting hours had long since passed, but not even the nurses, it seemed, could do anything when the Director of the Turks wanted to hold a meeting. She stood at attention, her back as straight as she could make it, and tried not to make it obvious that she was twisting her hands together behind her back.

Tseng looked at her—he really needed to be sleeping, she thought, but how could she tell her boss that—frowning slightly at the report she had given. She wondered if she had done anything wrong, then realized that she couldn't have. How could she? She'd done everything he'd asked. She hadn't even looked at the file as he delivered it.

"There's been word," he finally said, "of a sighting. Genesis has been spotted on the Northern Continent, heading towards the Great Glacier. It isn't confirmed, but this isn't the sort of thing we can leave unchecked. You wanted a real mission?"

She nodded, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She wished that he wouldn't bring her outburst up.

"You'll leave for Icicle Inn in the morning," he said. "Make any preparations you need, but be on your way before the company offices open. I want you on the ground by 15:00 tomorrow afternoon. Take a squad from the military department, I'll leave you to decide who. If the situation looks bad, pull out and request for back-up. Otherwise, shoot to kill. Do I make myself understood?"

"Yes, sir," she said.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. Before the sun was up, she was in a chopper with a handful of handpicked troops, making her way towards Icicle Inn.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	5. Interlude 008: Echoes of the Past pt2

**Final Fantasy VII: Another Story**

**By:**

**Mystwalker**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Final Fantasy VII.

**A/N**: So this chapter was late one week, and if you looked at my author page, you'd have seen that it was because the Valentine's special went up. You guys picked Sephissnei, so there's now a Sephissnei oneshot up called **Love and War**. Check it out if you feel so inclined, and for those of you who voted Zerith (a close second), well, that's what this chapter's for. ^^

Thanks go to **SpiritDreamWarriors, JazzQueen, Isayan Jesmayan, Riku Uzumaki, SakiWatari, DJ Meltdown of Ground Xero, Meteor Panda, Eavenne **and **Gameplayer23. **

**Meteor Panda, **yes, I did write **Sins of the Father! **I didn't know anyone read that one! I don't think I'll be continuing that story anytime soon, but I still have the file knocking around somewhere in my hard drive if you want it (I'd have to hunt for it first, but I saved it before I deleted it).

XxXxX

**Interlude 008: Echoes of the Past**

Aerith sat on her heels in the center of her mother's garden, the flowers blooming brightly around her. The smell of them was heavy in the air, filling the small room with a sweet scent. Although it was just as cold in here as it was in the rest of the house, for all intents and purposes, it could have been a greenhouse, so vibrant was the greenery that surrounded her. Roses in the prime of life, trailing vines coiling around trellises and sagging with the weight of fat pink flowers, a carpet of small, delicate blooms poking through the grass at her feet. Compared to this, her flowers at the church looked like a clump of weeds. This was the sort of garden someone might plant for kings.

It was, she realized, the reflection of the sort of person her mother had been, before she had ever gotten a chance to know her.

She looked up at the staff that rose up out of the ground in front of her, flowering vines coiling tightly around it. The design at its head was made to represent growing things—delicate filigree iron formed a twisting pattern that might have been the vine or water or the wind. At its heart, a single scarlet gem still pulsed with power, protecting this room, guarding it, and nourishing the things that grew in it. It had been over twenty years since anyone had been in here to tend this garden, but the spell still held. If Aerith closed her eyes, she could almost hear her mother's voice, feel her presence in this room, looking after each flower.

It was a power that was beyond her, and so distant from what she knew of Ifalna that Aerith wondered if she had ever really known her at all.

She glanced down at her hands in her lap, clasped gently over a single glowing white orb. The White Materia. After casting Holy in the Forgotten Capital, she had felt it within her, as if it had chosen her. But she hadn't been able to use it since then. She'd _tried_, but no matter what she did, Holy wouldn't come.

A part of her wondered if Ifalna would have been able to do it, if she were in her daughter's place. Fix it, the Planet had said earlier. Fix the world. But how could she do that? She could barely fight. She wasn't the sort of Cetra the Planet needed.

It was only because of Kunsel that she was still alive.

The thought made her curl her fingers inward, holding the orb close to herself. If she closed her eyes, she could still see it, Genesis's sword coming in, Kunsel pushing her back, the feeling of life being severed forever. He'd died for her, sacrificed to allow her to cast the spell that saved all of their lives.

And she couldn't even do it again. So had Kunsel died for nothing?

Jenova was dead. Jenova was dead—even Sephiroth said so. But if that was the case, then why was she still so scared?

The sound of footsteps from behind her made her look up, glancing back. Sephiroth stood in the doorway, hesitating. He seemed almost unwilling to enter the room, but when it became clear that she wasn't leaving, he walked forward carefully, picking his way through the grass. Aerith covered the White Materia with her hands, staring at the staff. His eyes moved towards her hands, but if he knew what she held, he said nothing.

"The cleaning is finished," he said. "We should head back."

She felt a pang of guilt from those words—she was supposed to help clean, instead of sitting here with her thoughts, but he'd left her here—and stood slowly. The White Materia, she cupped in one hand as she rose, letting it absorb back into her skin. She could feel its presence settle into the back of her mind, the same way that the Materia in her staff did, but those were strong forces, with identities that she could _feel_—fire and ice and healing. Where the White Materia was, there was only a void where power should be. She remembered how it felt to channel Holy in the Capital, remembered the rush of energy crackling beneath her skin, the way for one moment she was the Planet, and part of it, and one with it, but all that was left was the memory. She gathered her staff into her hand, pulling her arm close to herself and looking back at the staff in the garden. Sephiroth watched her, saying nothing, but she could feel him wondering.

"I'm not…" she said, because she felt like she needed to say something. "…I'm not like this…" She swept her hand out towards the garden, taking in everything. "I'm not good enough."

"You grow flowers."

"Wildflowers," said Aerith, her hand falling to tangle itself in the fabric of her winter pants. "Weeds, really. Nothing like this, nothing beautiful. What are weeds going to do against—." The words snagged in her throat. _–against the end. Against the death of the world. Bugenhagen was right, the Planet really is dying. _That was the source of her unease, her fear, the reason why she couldn't look Zack in the eye when he spoke about a future. The Planet was dying, and she wasn't strong enough to save it.

The last of a dying race on a dying world.

The sword flashed through the air, startling her. Aerith jumped back, her staff in her hands before she realized that the person wielding the sword was Sephiroth, and he wasn't attacking her. Masamune had cut a straight line through one of the rose bushes. As she watched, it collapsed to the ground, the flowers it bore landing in the earth. Petals scattered. She stared, stunned, as she felt the life seep from the plant, back into the earth, back into the Planet. Her eyes moved away from it, turning back towards Sephiroth, and said the only word she could manage.

"What?"

"It won't grow back," said Sephiroth, flicking his sword casually to the side and placing it on his back.

"No, of course not," said Aerith, shaking her head. She stared forlornly at the plant on the ground, and at the stump where the rosebush had been. "It's dead." She shook her head, as if still not believing what had happened. "You killed it."

"If I went to your church," said Sephiroth, glancing at her. "Could I kill yours that easily?"

She shook her head, reaching out towards the plant. Aerith crouched down, finding herself answering without really thinking, as she reached for the branches. "No—not that easily. You'd have to cut them all, and even then, they'd still grow…back…" One of the roses fell from her hands as she realized what he was saying, and she turned her head, looking up at him. He turned away, looking out at the garden. For the first time, she wondered what he saw in it. Sephiroth, she realized, was elegant in his own way, but he'd never had an eye for what other people might consider beautiful.

Not if it had no use.

If it had no strength.

His eyes moved over the flowers, and she saw for the first time that he was evaluating, coldly, weighing them on the scale of which would live and which would die. "This isn't the sort of world where things like this survive," he said, looking back at her. "But maybe wildflowers can."

She got to her feet, holding her staff close to herself. Aerith inhaled, feeling a tightness in her throat.

"But what if I can't?" she asked. "What if I can't do what the Planet wants? What if I'm not strong enough?"

He paused, examining her. Examining her, she realized, not with the look of a companion, or the understanding he had shown earlier, not even the strict patience that he showed her and Cloud and Blaire when he was teaching them to fight, but with a critical air, like an officer evaluating his troops and finding them wanting.

"Have you really tried?" he asked.

She found that she had nothing to say.

She'd made a few shows of trying, she realized, going to awaken the White Materia, because she _had to_, letting him teach her how to fight, going to the Temple of the Ancients, but had she really been _trying _to become what was needed, or was she already convinced from the start that it couldn't be done? So far, it felt like all she had done was push people away.

_Zack_, she realized, with a pang of guilt.

How many times had she pushed him away?

She did it because she didn't _want _this responsibility, didn't _want _to be singled out this way. Didn't want to be special, and didn't want anyone to see her as such.

Well, maybe it was time she had to be.

Something opened up in her heart at the thought, and she realized just how much she'd missed him. Zack, who'd nearly died outside of Midgar, who'd faced insurmountable odds just to see her again. She'd been ignoring him all this time. What would he say, if she knew how weak she'd really been?

"I…" She opened her mouth, thought about it, and closed her mouth again. What could she say that she hadn't already said, that wasn't already clear from the start? She looked over her shoulder, giving the flowers one last look, her hand tightening around her staff as she looked back at Sephiroth. "You're right. We should go. Everyone will be wondering where they are."

He nodded. "Zack and the others are snowboarding in the mountains," he said. He watched her carefully, taking note her expression. She didn't ask him how he knew. "They should still be there."

Her stomach churned uneasily at the thought of going up there, at facing Zack after all this. It would be much easier to say she was tired and go straight to the inn. But just because it was easier, that didn't mean it was right. And no one said that this was going to be easy.

It was time they talked, she decided with a sigh. Really talked.

"We should catch up with them, then," she said.

He met her eyes, nodding once. The two of them left the room, and she closed the door to the garden behind her.

Before they left, they took one last look at the house. It was clean now, almost as clean as it had been before Shinra attacked, and it looked almost unrecognizable. The books were back on the shelves, what few of them could be salvaged, and Aerith passed Gast's journal to Sephiroth, remembering it after a short period of time. As a final thought, they placed the boxes back in front of the door to the garden, protecting it from prying eyes.

As a final thought, Aerith left a handful of cut flowers on the bookshelf in the living room upstairs, arranging them artfully so that they looked like a memorial display. Behind the flowers, they'd left two pictures, a framed picture of Gast holding a newborn baby on the left side, and on the right, the picture Aerith had been holding earlier, a younger Gast smiling at the camera as a three-year-old Sephiroth blinked up at it. Sephiroth had placed the picture there without a word, then gone to wait for her upstairs, leaving her to arrange the flowers. She ran her hand over the creased edges of the picture now, feeling a small smile come onto her face. She thought of Sephiroth standing upstairs, probably embarrassed by the gesture, but doing his best to hide it.

_He's not the best about saying what he feels, _she thought, _But then again, maybe I'm not so good at that either._

She didn't know if Gast heard, if there was even some part of him retained in the Lifestream that was left to hear. But thinking about it, doing all of this, made her feel better. She adjusted the flowers one last time, trailed her fingers across her pant leg to wipe off the sap that had clung to them, and started up the stairs, towards where Sephiroth was waiting. He nodded at her, and the two of them left the chamber behind, stepping back out into the ice and snow. They started walking towards the mountain, where the bright colored flags that marked the snowboarding courses stood out starkly against the white. For a while, neither of them spoke. They just walked in silence, the snow crunching beneath their feet.

"I'm going to try," said Aerith, when they were close enough to the courses to see the figures sliding down the mountainside. She didn't look up as she spoke, shading her eyes against the sun as she studied them. "For real, this time."

Sephiroth grunted in assent, the only sign that he had heard. They continued on, picking up the pace as they neared the top of their climb.

XxXxX

They found Zack and the others at the foot of the course, watching as a shouting Yuffie made her way down the hill, letting out a whoop of joy as she swept past Cloud and leaped into the air. Cloud threw an arm up in front of his face as Yuffie streaked past him, covering him in snow, and lost his balance, landing on his other side and rolling the next few feet to a stop as Yuffie made another sharp turn ahead of him. Zack was laughing, his snowboard propped up in the dirt next to him as he watched with Tifa. The martial artist had her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with concern.

"What did you think?" asked Yuffie, coming to a stop in front of them. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Bet Cloud doesn't think so," said Zack, glancing back at the hill.

Yuffie shrugged, not even glancing over her shoulder. "He'll be fine!" she said. "He can take a hit. That was so much _fun_! Tifa, let's go again!"

"I think I'm done for the day," said Tifa with a smile, the smile dropping slightly as she glanced over Yuffie's shoulder to watch Cloud start getting back to his feet.

Yuffie shrugged again, and opened her mouth to say something, but froze as she saw them approaching. Aerith came to a stop. Yuffie stared at her for a moment, before nudging Zack. He looked over his shoulder, and his eyes met hers. She saw the way the smile slipped from his face, his blue eyes darkening. Aerith sucked in a breath and gripped her staff tighter, feeling some of his courage leaving her as Zack exchanged a glance with Tifa, walking towards her. She didn't miss the way that Tifa squeezed his arm in support as he walked by.

"Hey, Seph!" said Yuffie as Zack neared her. Sephiroth looked up as the ninja waved to him. "I bet you you can't beat my time!"

Zack gave Sephiroth a smile as the SOLDIER walked past him. Perhaps it was just Aerith's imagination, but she thought the smile seemed forced as well. "Why don't you take my board for a couple of rounds?" he offered. "The rental shop's closing in a bit."

Sephiroth said nothing, but Aerith caught the meaningful glance he shot her way as he walked past her, heading towards the slope. He didn't move towards Zack's discarded snowboard, instead going over to stand with the others and watch as Cloud righted himself and made his way slowly down the slope, while Cissnei got ready to start her own run.

And then he was gone, and she and Zack were alone. She stared at him, wondering if there was ever a time when the two of them had so much to say to each other and neither of them knew how to say it. Somehow, even their reunion outside of Midgar had been easier than this. She hadn't changed her mind about talking to him, but she wished it was easier. Especially since she still didn't know what to say, or what exactly needed to be said.

She had to say something, though. She was sure of that. If she didn't say anything, she was sure she was going to explode.

She opened her mouth. "Zack—."

At the same time, Zack stepped forward, his hands out towards her. "Aerith—."

The two of them froze, staring at each other. Zack gestured vaguely with his hands as Aerith shifted her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. The two of them looked away, then raised their eyes back to each other's again.

"I'm sorry."

This time, when they spoke, the words came out as one. Aerith stared at Zack, as though she couldn't make herself believe he had spoken too. Zack blinked in confusion, his hands lowering slowly to his side. Aerith watched as he tucked his hands into his sides as if to warm them, turning away. She was sure she didn't imagine the embarrassed flush on his face.

"You're…sorry?" she asked, twisting her staff around in her hands.

"Yeah," said Zack, hesitantly looking back at her. "For the way I was acting. I've been—stupid lately. Forgive me?" The last two words were said with a tentative grin, like a child that had been caught and wasn't sure they were in trouble or not…or a puppy. Any other day, she might have smiled and turned away to hide a giggle. Today, she felt the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, but the rest of her refused to give into it, still staring at Zack and uncomprehending.

"I—you don't have anything to be sorry for!" she said. "I'm the one who was—." Aerith cut herself off, noticing that now Zack was the one staring at her. The smile had faded from his face, and there was something solemn and questioning in his eyes. She exhaled, her hands tightening their grip on her staff as she looked down at the ground.

"Aerith?" asked Zack.

"I've been…" she said, to his shoes instead of to his face. "…scared."

"I don't understand," said Zack. He took a step towards her and hesitated, as if he wasn't sure whether or not to pull back. When she turned slightly away, hugging her arm close to herself, he took another step. She flinched when she felt his hand land on her shoulder. He felt it. She felt the pressure ease, as if he was going to pull the hand away, and she was filled with the sudden irrational fear that if he did, he was never going to come back to her. She turned towards him quickly, taking a step forward so that she was standing right in front of him. He hesitated again, and then the gentle pressure on her shoulder returned, squeezing slightly.

She looked at his eyes, found that she couldn't, and spoke to his chest. "This whole thing," she muttered. "…with the Planet, with Jenova. This fight. It's been scaring me. I think…that a part of me already gave up. That's why I've been pushing you away." She shook her head, letting out a shuddering breath. Zack's hand moved from her shoulder to her arm, the other took her other arm gently, holding her there. He leaned down, trying to catch her eye, and she relented, looking up and letting her eyes meet his.

"But we're winning," he said, giving her a confused frown. "Jenova's dead. Azul's dead. You have the White Materia. Shelke—I don't know what's going on with Shelke, but whatever it is, she's not siding with the Tsviets anymore. We're winning."

"Are we?" Aerith's hands rested tentatively on his chest; she wasn't sure if it was because she wanted to pull him closer or because she wanted to push him away. Zack's grip tightened on her briefly, and it was only when she looked up and saw the way he was watching her that she realized she was trembling. "If we are…then why am I still so scared?"

"Aerith…" Zack began.

"…What if the Planet really is dying?"

She said the words so softly that she wasn't sure anyone could hear them, so softly that she wasn't even sure _she _had heard them. But Zack heard. She felt it in the way he tensed, the way his grip on her tightened almost painfully before he remembered himself.

"That won't happen," he said, with the stubborn set to his jaw that said he meant it and wouldn't be convinced otherwise. "We'll find a way to stop it somehow."

"But what if we can't?" asked Aerith. "What if we fail?"

"Then we fail," said Zack, looking at her. "But I'm not going to go down without giving it my best shot. I didn't—_we _didn't go through all that to give up at the finish line."

"Then what if I'm not strong enough…" She realized she was leaning against him now, with his arms wrapped around her, speaking into his chest. A part of her wondered when that had happened. The rest of her wanted to pull closer to him.

"Strong enough for what?" he asked.

She nearly whispered the words again. "Whatever I have to do…"

"Then we'll help you," said Zack. He pulled away, looking her in the eyes. "Aerith, I need you to listen to me. _You. are not. alone. _We're here with you. You don't have to face this alone, no matter what you think the Planet is making you do.I'm here with you, and nothing," his hand cupped her cheek. She realized as she sucked in a hiccupping sob, that she was crying, "nothing is going to change that. We're in this together, and if the Planet doesn't like that, it can go save itself. Okay?"

She sucked in a breath. Zack's thumb moved across her cheek, wiping away some of the tears that continued to fall, and somehow that just made her want to cry some more. After today, she didn't think she would have any tears left in her. But somehow—somehow she believed him.

Maybe alone, maybe even if she tried her hardest, she wasn't strong enough to do what was needed.

But together…

…together, they could win this fight. Together, they were strong enough. She had to believe that.

She met his eyes, and slowly nodded. "Okay," she said.

He smiled, his hand trailing from her cheek back down to her shoulder, and he paused as though he was thinking of doing more, but then he glanced back over his shoulder, towards where the snowboarding group had gathered. Aerith looked as well, and noticed that while all of them kept their distance, they were watching them. Zack turned back towards Aerith.

"You wanna take a turn?" he asked. "It's gonna be dark soon, but we're all heading out for dinner in a bit anyway."

Aerith looked over at the others and shook her head. It was tempting, but suddenly, she knew what she had to do. "Maybe later," she said. "I want you to come with me."

"Where?" asked Zack.

"My…" The words still felt odd. "My parents' house."

Zack frowned in confusion, glancing back at the others. "Weren't you just there?" he asked. "With…Sephiroth?"

"I was," said Aerith. "But now I want you to be there with me." She smiled at him. "I think my parents would have liked you."

"Well, I'm not exactly your mom's favorite," said Zack, as she started walking back to town. He went with her, not really needing much prodding.

"What?" asked Aerith, glancing back at him. "Don't be silly. My mom likes you."

"You didn't see her after Tseng captured you," said Zack, "She was _not _happy to see me."

"That doesn't mean anything. I was captured by _Shinra_. She likes you now."

"Oh, sure, after I've dragged you halfway around the world," said Zack with a rueful smile.

Aerith rolled her eyes. "Just come on," she said, tugging at him. "Besides, I'm sure it's probably more like three-quarters of the way around the world by now…"

They made their way back into town, neither of them realizing that they were holding hands.

**END INTERLUDE**


	6. File 038: Northward Bound pt1

**Final Fantasy VII: Another Story**

**By:**

**Mystwalker**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Final Fantasy VII.

**A/N**: Just finished a first run-through of Bioshock Infinite and simultaneously finished reading Mockingjay, so my feels are all in knots. I don't know if any of that showed up in this update, but…well…we'll see. ^^

Thanks go to **SpiritDreamWarriors, JazzQueen, Eavenne, DJ Meltdown of Ground Xero, Gameplayer23, Irish-Brigid, **and **RememberTheDays **for the reviews and support! I appreciate it!

**SpiritDreamWarriors, **I intend to. If all goes well, I intend to give both Yuffentine and Cloti more of the focus in this fic, while also furthering the Zerith relationship and giving you guys some Sephissnei in a romantic light (or as romantic as they can be, anyway). But these are the housekeeping chapters pretty much, so there you have it.

**RememberTheDays, **don't worry about it! I use the FFWiki for a lot of this information too (I've never played Dirge or Before Crisis). I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Sorry Cloti is so slow. I freely admit that Cloud and Tifa are some of the hardest to write for me. I don't know why, since they seem like they'd be the easiest, but there it is. (But they were slow in canon too, I promise they'll get there before all's said and done!)

XxXxX

**File 038: Northward Bound**

The fire burned merrily in the fireplace, warming the inn's small sitting room. The group of fourteen, minus Blaire, sat clustered around the fire, taking any surface that could reasonably have been considered a seat and forming a loose circle as they faced each other. Outside, the wind howled, rattling the windows and letting in a chill that even the roaring fire couldn't fully erase. Zack sat on a crate propped up against the wall, his arms folded as he glanced through the small doorway into the rest of the inn. While there weren't very many travelers this far north at this time of year, a place like Icicle Inn always attracted a few visitors, and it was a safe bet that at least some of them would be Shinra spies. But Sephiroth had made it very clear to the innkeeper that they didn't wish to be disturbed, and there weren't a lot of people brave or stupid enough to refuse Sephiroth when he spoke in that tone of voice. Satisfied that no one was creeping up on them, he exchanged nods with Cissnei, who was perched on an end-table on the other side of the door with Rekka casually placed in her lap, and turned back towards the conversation at hand, the Black Materia.

"But how do we _know _they have it?" asked Yuffie, from where she sat on the floor, her back against the inn's stone walls and her knees pulled up close to her chest. Zack couldn't have been the only one who noticed that she'd chosen a spot directly next to the windowsill where Vincent was sitting, one arm resting against his knee and his gun in his hand as he kept watch on the mountainside beneath the window. "What if the Planet just…swallowed it up? Or what if Holy destroyed it?"

"Holy wouldn't destroy it," said Aerith, her expression grim. Zack turned his head towards her, and she gave his hand a quick squeeze for strength before continuing on. "Holy would just defend against it. The White Materia and the Black Materia are just as strong as each other. Neither one can destroy the other. At least…that's what my mother told me."

"The ultimate white magic and the ultimate black magic," said Red from where he lay on the floor. "…It's possible that neither of them _could _be destroyed."

"Besides, brat." Cid took a long drag from his cigarette before speaking. "D'you really wanna make that bet?"

Cissnei nodded. "We have to assume that the Tsviets have the Black Materia. Given the circumstances, that's not a possibility we can afford to ignore. And if they have the Black Materia, we can only assume that they mean to use it."

"Jenova or not, Genesis is not the type to give up so easily." Sephiroth picked up the thread of conversation without being prompted, looking over at the group from where he stood next to the fire. He turned, his eyes meeting Zack's. "We both know just how tenacious he can be."

Zack nodded, briefly tightening his grip on Aerith's hand. "Every time we thought he was dead," he explained to the others, "He just kept coming back."

"Crazy bastard," Cid muttered under his breath, tapping the excess ashes off of the end of his cigarette. Tifa, seated with Cloud on the ground next to him, glared up at him as some of the ashes fell on her head, reaching out with one hand and shoving at his knee. She scooted away from him, moving closer to Cloud, who looked hopelessly trapped between her and the chair Shalua had taken. Zack saw the both of them try to keep their attention focused on the conversation, while hiding the glances they shot each other.

"So we gotta do what we'd do if they had the Materia," said Barret from the armchair he'd taken up. He clenched his human hand into a fist. "That's what you're sayin' isn't it?"

"Exactly," said Sephiroth, glancing at him.

"We do have some good news, though, Barret," said Cissnei, just as Barret's expression started to take a turn for the worst. Barret looked over at her. Zack did as well, as did most of the people in the room. Only Sephiroth didn't look surprised. "Marlene's safe. I just got word from Shion in Midgar this morning. Not much, just a quick encrypted message, but it was enough to understand the meaning of it." She turned towards Shalua as well. "Shelke too, in a way."

Shalua sprang up in her seat, at the same time as Barret leaned forward. Their voices overlapped as the both of them spoke at the same time.

"What about Shelke—?"

"Marlene?! How—?"

Both of them stopped, glancing at each other before looking back at Cissnei with renewed intensity. "I don't know the details," Cissnei said. "Like I said, there wasn't enough time for a longer message. All I know is that Shelke helped Marlene escape, and now she's missing again."

"Marlene…" The look of absolute relief on Barret's face was almost painful to look at. He slumped back in his seat, as if worry had been the only thing keeping him upright the past few days. On the other side of the room, Shalua also slumped down, but for a different reason. She cradled her prosthetic arm in one hand, her expression far-off, as if she was lost in a memory. Barret drew in a breath, giving himself a few more moments before sitting up straighter. "Alright," he said. "My little girl's safe. That's good enough for me. What are we gonna do about Genesis? And just so we're clear, Shinra's still gonna get theirs, got it?"

"We haven't forgotten Shinra," said Cissnei from her seat. "I think most of us still have very strong reasons for wanting them broken. But at the moment, Genesis is the greater threat." A few satisfied nods from around the room. Zack thought about the last time he'd seen Rufus Shinra and wondered about that. Then he remembered the look in Jenova's eyes, and that same look mirrored in Genesis, Weiss, and Nero's, and a shudder ran down his spine. No. They were right. For now, Genesis was the greater threat.

"So we're fighting a war on two fronts?" asked Shalua, looking back up from her seat. "Can we really afford to do that?"

Cid snorted, exhaling smoke. "If we don't, who will?"

His words echoed in the air, rising up like the smoke. The room fell silent in their aftermath, some of them exchanging glances. Yuffie looked uncomfortable, and so, Zack noticed, did Cloud. He glanced at Aerith, and saw that same grim resolution on her face that he had seen before the Temple of the Ancients. He tightened his grip on her hand again, adding his voice to the support.

"So that's set," he said, turning towards Sephiroth. "What now?"

In answer, Sephiroth turned towards the woman seated next to him. "Aerith?" he asked, inclining his head towards her.

Aerith took a deep breath, looking up. "The Black Materia takes a huge amount of energy to use, the same way the White Materia does. They can't simply summon Meteor anywhere. They have to find a place where the Planet's energy is close to the surface. Like the Forgotten Capital, but I already used that energy to summon Holy there."

"Where else?" asked Sephiroth.

She hesitated, only briefly. It wasn't for a long moment, but Zack noticed it anyway. Her eyes moved away from Sephiroth, past Vincent and towards the window. They fixed on something, at some point in the distance. Finally, she shook her head, looking back at the others. "North…" she said. "Somewhere north of here. Where the cliffs are. I'm sorry. I can't tell you much more than that."

"The Northern Crater," said Cissnei, quietly, causing the others to look up at her. She didn't face them, keeping her eyes on the floor. "It's the only place that fits. But that…poses some problems."

"Problems?" asked Zack. "What kind of problems?"

"Well, for starters," said Cissnei. "There's no roads to the Northern Crater. To get there, we'll have to cross the Great Glacier on foot."

"That all?" asked Barret. "We walked from Midgar to Corel. How much farther can this Crater thing be?"

"It's not all, Barret," said Shalua, turning towards him. "This is the North Pole. We're talking about subzero temperatures, snow, ice, and unpredictable weather, not to mention what lives out there. This isn't the sort of thing you take lightly."

"So?" asked Barret, sitting up straighter. "You tellin' me AVALANCHE is afraid of the cold?"

"That part of the trip, at least, can be done," said Sephiroth, cutting Shalua off before she could reply. "It won't be ideal, but the trip should take no more than a few days. With proper provisioning and protection against the weather, we should make it."

"There's more," said a voice from the window. Zack turned his head to see that Vincent had spoken, looking away from his silent watch and facing Cissnei, who Zack now noticed wasn't meeting his eyes. "Isn't there?"

Cissnei took in a deep breath, tucking her auburn hair behind her ear. She didn't look up at Vincent as she spoke, keeping Rekka close to her. "Yes," she said, as everyone's attention focused on her. She took a deep breath. "Shinra's out there. Shion had enough time to warn me about that. Rufus Shinra himself."

"Then that's even more reason to go." The speaker, this time, was Tifa. Zack turned his head to face her, surprised at the hard edge in her voice. She was sitting with her back straight, one hand draped across her knee. The martial artist looked around the room, meeting everyone's eyes before looking back at Cissnei. "Isn't it?" she asked. "If Rufus Shinra is heading out there, then he wants something, and he wants it bad enough to go personally."

"Which means we can't let 'im have it," growled Barret. "We're not lettin' Shinra get what he wants."

"We should remain focused on our objective," said Sephiroth. He turned towards Barret, his eyes narrowing as the gunman started to protest. Barret glared at him, but said nothing. Sephiroth went on. "That said…if we can disrupt both Rufus Shinra's plans and Genesis's, I see no reason why we shouldn't."

"Two birds, one stone," said Zack.

Cissnei nodded. "So, we need to do a few things," she said. "First of all, make sure we're fully stocked for the trip north. We should expect to run into problems, both from the weather and from other sources. Remember, we aren't the only ones with a stake in this. Shinra will be trying to track Genesis and the Tsviets down too, and they'll probably think about intercepting us along the way, which means this area is going to be crawling with surveillance. And Genesis is probably going to be thinking about intercepting both of us at the Crater as well. We're talking about a conflict with three sides, and just because we all share mutual enemies, it doesn't mean any of us will team up with the other."

Barret snorted. "Got that right," he said.

"What about—." Cloud spoke up, immediately stopping as soon as he realized how loud his voice was. He fell silent, glancing around at the others before continuing on, much more softly. "What about time?" he asked. "Rufus Shinra isn't going to walk to the Northern Crater. And Genesis and the Tsviets don't have to. What if we don't make it?"

"Oh, we'll make it," said Cissnei, folding her arms. "Leave our travel time to me. I think I can find us a way."

"So, it's settled," said Tifa, straightening up. She glanced at the clock. "We should probably get some sleep. We can get started first thing tomorrow, and—."

She stopped suddenly as Red sprang to his feet, his hackles raised threateningly and his eyes on the door. Zack and Cissnei immediately sprang into action, Cissnei readying Rekka as Zack pushed the door open. It swung open wide, revealing an empty hallway, light shining brightly from the lamps set into the walls. Conversation drifted down at them from the common room, accompanied by the smells of food, but there was no one between them and those distant sounds. Cissnei motioned for them to stay put, slipping out into the hallway. She returned a few moments later, a puzzled look on her face.

"No one," she said, turning to Red. "What was it?"

Red shook his head, staring at the door with a perplexed expression. He shifted his weight back and forth, his claws scratching small lines into the floor as his tail flicked back and forth in the air. "I thought I smelled—." He shook his head again, settling down. "No. Never mind. It must have been my imagination."

They exchanged glances, and Zack noticed that almost all of them had been reaching for weapons. There was a pause, during which most of them settled down. Tifa's hands moved away from the gloves at her belt, hands removed themselves from sword hilts. Vincent slowly lowered his gun. After that scare, though, nobody seemed keen on letting their guard down. Zack certainly wasn't planning on it. They'd had enough of unseen observers to be able to relax now.

"Get some sleep," said Sephiroth finally, breaking the tense silence. "And stay on your guard. We're leaving as soon as the sun comes up tomorrow."

Zack slipped off of his seat, heading towards the door. It was only when he was past it, walking towards the room he shared with Cloud, that he noticed what Cissnei had been so puzzled about. There was no sign of anyone out of place, nor did there appear to be a sign that anyone had entered the hallway at all, except for one thing.

A puddle of muddy water, directly outside the door. The sort of thing that one might track in if they'd come in from outside without wiping off their feet. Except there were no other footprints in the hallway, and there was something else that was worrying about the puddle itself. It was too small. Too small for an adult watcher.

But the perfect size for a child.

XxXxX

It took a while for the commotion from Nanaki's alarm to calm down, despite everyone's best efforts to keep quiet. At least half of the members of AVALANCHE seemed to have it in their heads to go pacing around the hallway, claiming that they couldn't sleep, or were getting a drink of water, or had forgotten something in the sitting room. A few—Cissnei, Nanaki, Barret—outwardly stated that they were giving things one more pass, and he was fairly certain that a few others, such as Vincent, had slipped out while he wasn't looking. Sephiroth gave up on policing these, deciding that some security was better than none. He understood the idea of keeping things quiet, not drawing attention to themselves in case their enemies still didn't know they were here. But even then, he walked the perimeter of the inn once before heading back to his room, and he couldn't even bring himself to be surprised when he entered the room he shared to find that Zack wasn't there and neither was the Buster Sword.

What he wasn't expecting to find was Blaire sitting on his bed, huddled up in a blanket and staring at him with frightened eyes.

He paused, in the doorway, watching her, almost afraid she was going to bolt. Blaire had been avoiding him since the Forgotten Capital, even insisting on staying in a different room at night. She didn't say more than a few words to him at a time, and every time he tried to speak to her since what had happened then, she'd run away. But she didn't run this time, instead staring at him warily, with every muscle in her body tense, as if she held herself there only by sheer force of will.

He took a breath, reminding himself to be careful with his words. "You should be in bed," he told her.

"You're leaving town tomorrow," she said.

"We," he corrected her, "are leaving first thing in the morning."

Blaire shook her head. He thought he saw tears in her eyes as she pulled the blanket tighter. "I don't want to come with you anymore."

Sephiroth watched her, noticing the way she kept her head down, using her hair to hide her face as she avoided looking at him. In a way, she reminded him of the girl he'd found in Nibelheim, huddled under one of the ragged cloaks all of the clones were wearing and refusing to speak to him. The skin around the wristband that hid her tattoo was red and raw, as if she'd been pulling at it before coming to talk to him. He looked around the room, but Yoshiyuki was nowhere in sight. After a moment, he stepped away from the door, walking towards her. Blaire didn't look up, her hands fisting in the fabric of the blanket. He stopped a foot away from the bed, keeping the space between them.

"Where would you go?" he finally asked.

"I don't know," said Blaire, shaking her head. "Not here. Away. Back to Al. _Somewhere_."

"Allen is thousands of miles away, on a different continent. To get from here to Rocket Town, you'd have to cross the tundra back to Bone Village, which will take you at least four days if monsters or Shinra don't find you first. From there, it's another two days to the coast. And that's not even considering how you're going to cross the ocean in the first place. It's not as if you can drive across the water. You could stowaway on a ship, if you were smart enough, but the only two ports of call a major ship would go to would be Junon Harbor on the Eastern Continent, and Costa del Sol on the West, both strongly under Shinra control. You've never been to either of them, have you?" Blaire's blank stare was enough of an answer. He went on. "To make it to Rocket Town from Costa del Sol, you'll have to cross the Corel Desert, which is arguably harsher terrain than up here, and every mile you travel between here and Rocket Town, you run the risk of getting overrun by monsters, or captured by Shinra."

He paused, making sure to catch her eye, even as she tried to turn away.

"Do you know what Shinra would do to you if they found you?" he asked. The question was harsh, but he needed to make sure she understood. She turned her face from his again, curling herself up into a tighter ball. Blaire made a whimpering sound, as though trying to pretend she didn't hear. "Do you really? They wouldn't kill you, as young as you are. They would probably consider making you one of them. They would—!"

"_I know!" _she shrieked suddenly, startling wasn't expecting her to suddenly uncoil, and the pillow she flung at him caught him straight in the face. She brought her hands up to her ears, covering them as she shook her head and beat her feet against the mattress. _"_I know, I know, I know! Shut up!" Her fingers tangled themselves in her hair. "I was there! I know! Shut up!" He crossed the space between them as she started to kick, his hands latching onto her wrists. She struggled in his grip, trying to pull his hands out of hers and kicking at his chest. Her feet struck once or twice, and one good kick drove some of the breath out of him, but he held fast as she continued to shriek, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"_Let go! _Let go, let go, let GO! Stop that! Just let me go! I wanna go away! Let go!"

"Listen—," He tried to turn her to face him. She jerked away, and her foot caught him under his chin. His eyes narrowed, and he took a breath, speaking next in the tone he used when issuing orders and expecting them to be obeyed. "I said, _listen to me." _

She fell silent, shuddering in his hold. All the fight seemed to go out of her at once, and she slumped, staring at him with blank eyes, tears still flowing freely down her cheeks. He relaxed his grip on her wrists only slightly, glancing once at the door. Shouts like that would have everyone out of bed and ready to fight in an instant. He would be very surprised if Zack was not pounding down the hall to get to this room. He looked away from the door, fixing his eyes again on the distraught ten-year-old, who was trying to make herself small again.

"Y—You—," she said, in between hiccupping sobs. "—I hurt you. She—she made me hurt you. I don't w-want to hurt anyone again. That's wh-why—that's why I want to go."

"You think it's safer for you if you leave?" asked Sephiroth. Blaire made to look away again. "No. _Look_ at me. Jenova is dead, and even if she weren't, do you honestly think leaving is the best decision? You're smarter than that."

"I'll hurt someone again…" she whispered.

"If you leave and survive," said Sephiroth, relaxing his grip further. He realized that sometime during her tantrum he'd dropped to a knee on the floor beside the bed to get better leverage, so that now he was looking her in the eye. "Almost certainly."

"And if I stay?" Her voice shook, sounding higher pitched and softer than normal.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"I don't want to be controlled again. Ever again." Her shaking worsened. He could barely hear the last word. It was almost a whimper. He surprised himself with his own response. The words left his mouth before he could even think about them.

"I won't let it happen." She looked up at him, and something in her eyes made him confirm it. "I won't."

She stared at him, as if uncertain whether or not to believe him. But slowly, the shaking beneath his hold subsided. He could still feel it, a tremor beneath her skin, but it wasn't as noticeable now. "Take Yoshiyuki back…" she mumbled under her breath.

He shook his head. "No."

"I'll hurt someone again…"

"You won't," he said firmly, "Because you're going to learn how to use it."

Blaire shook her head again, her face pale. "I'm scared of it," she said. "I don't want to use it."

"Good. But you're still going to learn."

"Why?" asked Blaire, her voice hushed.

"Because otherwise, you'll only become more scared. And if you're scared, you become easier to control."

Blaire stared at him, quiet for a moment. He realized he could let go of her now, but her expression was so defeated that he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to. He settled for releasing one hand, letting her wipe at her face with the corner of the blanket, and keeping a soft hold on the other wrist. She eyed him for a while, wiping at her eyes.

"Was it like that for you?" she finally asked.

He shook his head. He remembered that time, throwing himself into battle after battle, because in those early days, moving was the only thing that dulled the fear. It was also during those first real skirmishes that he threw himself into the study of the sword, into the art of it. It was calming, almost, the forms and techniques, things that seemed so separate from actual battle that they didn't quite seem real. "Not quite."

"What was the difference?" she asked.

"I had no choice."

"I don't have one."

"But you did." He released his hold on Blaire's wrist. "And you will. But right now, choice isn't a luxury any of us have. Until this is over, there is nowhere safe."

He began to stand up, prepared to pull away, but Blaire surprised him again, this time by launching herself forward with surprising speed, and throwing her arms around his neck. He froze, startled, and caught her out of reflex. She trembled in his hold. Surprisingly light, he noticed, despite her strength. She'd gotten healthier since traveling with them, but beneath the mako enhancements, she was still skin and bones.

"I'm sorry I hit you…" she mumbled into his shoulder, sniffling. "I'm sorry…"

He turned towards her, about to reply, but found that she was already asleep, her head resting on his chest. As he stood up to carry her back to her bed, she mumbled the words "I'm sorry," under her breath again.

XxXxX

"Is she asleep?"

The two figures stood in the inn's hallway, a man and a woman, talking in hushed voices. From under the cloaking mechanism that kept her invisible, their voices sounded distorted and the light around them bent oddly, making it seem as though they were shining. She recognized them, and seeing them in the hallway when she expected it to be empty made her tense, her fingers tightening around the corner as her other hand landed on the hilt of her sword. But they didn't seem to notice her, instead walking the other way. The man turned towards the woman, answering her question.

"She's asleep," he said. "She exhausted herself."

"It's an easy thing to do at that age," said the woman, with a sympathetic smile. She stopped walking, turning towards the man and brushing her fingers over his shoulder, smoothing back a few strands of damp silver hair. It was a gesture that she vaguely recognized as intimacy. "You don't look so well yourself," she said to the man. "Between Blaire and Aerith…are you doing okay?"

The man muttered something that was difficult to pick out from her vantage point, but she thought it was "As long as you don't start crying." His hand reached out to catch hers as it moved back over his shoulders, and for a moment, she thought he was going to push it away, but he simply held it there as the woman barked out a laugh, apparently amused by the idea. It was, she supposed, another gesture of intimacy. She didn't have as much data on the subject as she might have liked.

"Don't worry, Sephiroth," she said. "I can take care of myself."

He leaned closer and muttered something, this time too low for her to understand at all, but the woman must have understood, because she grinned, resting her other arm across his shoulders and stepping closer so that they were suddenly touching. It wasn't quite an embrace, but she did lean against him.

"Well, we'll see," she said, "But I guess that'll have to wait, won't it?" She disengaged herself from him, pulling just out of his grasp as he reached for her, and tossing a smirk over her shoulder as she started walking down the hallway. Both she and the man watched the woman leave, until she opened a door and disappeared into one of the rooms. Then the man turned, and for one moment, his eyes moved over her hiding place.

Before he could detect her, Shelke turned, disappearing back into the night.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	7. File 038: Northward Bound pt2

**Final Fantasy VII: Another Story**

**By:**

**Mystwalker**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Final Fantasy VII.

**A/N**: This update is late because this past week has been incredibly busy, so I had to write it in small chunks. I may move the update date to Friday, since it takes some pressure off of me. Enjoy.

Thanks go to **Meteor Panda, SpiritDreamWarriors, Irish-Brigid, JazzQueen, Riku Uzumaki, Eavenne, DJ Meltdown of Ground Xero, **and **Draconic **for the reviews and support. Yes, the woman in the hallway was Cissnei. I could have sworn I mentioned her name, but guess I forgot.

XxXxX

**File 038: Northward Bound**

AVALANCHE gathered in the inn's sitting room before the sun was up, a few of its members looking as though they had been dragged forcibly out of bed. Cloud slipped into the room past a disgruntled Yuffie, glancing into the hallway after him to make sure they had not been followed. They hadn't been. He shut the door, locking it, and turned to stand against it, placing his hands behind his back and straightening up before anyone could see that they had been shaking.

Vincent immediately made his way to the window, although he didn't sit at it like he had the night before, instead standing right next to it with his gun in his hands. On the other side of the room, Zack and Cissnei waited, weapons in hand as Tifa, Barret, and Cid went through the packs that they had grabbed at random out of the rooms during their hurried rush down the hallway. Nanaki paced the floor, his tail flickering in agitation as he made his way from one side of the room to the other.

Sephiroth looked up at him from his spot by the fireplace. "Are we clear?"

Cloud nodded. "I think so," he said. His eyes moved over the group, and he took a slow breath to calm himself, doing a quick headcount. Thirteen, counting Blaire. The little girl was standing in the corner, clutching her sheathed sword tightly in both hands and rocking back and forth. He glanced at Yuffie, who was still huddled in a blanket, part of it tucked up over her head like it was a cloak.

"You said we were leaving in the _morning_," she complained.

"It is morning," said Sephiroth, not looking at her. "And the situation's changed. Cissnei."

"Shinra's arrived," said Cissnei. "They touched down in the Great Glacier a few hours ago, and have started sealing off the town. They've been going door to door, searching."

From his spot by the packs, Cid let out a particularly colorful curse.

Cloud remained steady at his post, remembering the way Sephiroth had walked into his room and shaken him awake, ordering him in hushed tones to get as many people as he could out of bed and into the sitting room. He'd joined Sephiroth, Cissnei, and Zack in going through the rooms and waking people up as quietly as possible. Most of AVALANCHE went willingly—they'd had too many near-disasters to ask questions. Even Yuffie had gotten up out of bed, despite all her grumbling, and had let herself be ushered out the door.

He clenched his hand into a fist to stop the trembling, his hand brushing the steel that was fixed to the SOLDIER uniform he wore. At least he'd remembered his sword. Most of them remembered weapons, even if they'd left everything else. Another habit that couldn't really be shaken.

"They're coming," said Vincent from the window, making the others turn towards him. He inclined his head towards the darkened street. "On the corner. A squad of infantrymen. Ten…twenty minutes at most."

"We need to move," said Sephiroth, his expression darkening. "Now."

Zack nodded, picking up his pack and swinging it over his shoulder. It hung just above the Buster Sword's flat. "Through the kitchen, out the back door," he said. "If we hurry, we can make it to the gates."

Cissnei shook her head. "Too risky. We're too big a group. There's no way we'll be able to make it to the gates unnoticed. And they'll almost certainly be guarded." She walked over to the main table, unfurling the rolled up piece of paper in her hand. Cloud craned his neck to catch a glimpse of it as she laid it flat. It looked like a map of the area, showing Icicle Inn and the rest of the Knowlespole.

"We'll split up," she said, marking four locations with a wave of her hand. "Four groups. We have a better chance this way, and we've done it before. We'll meet up here." She pressed her finger against a point on the map, further north. "A man lives out here. His name is Holzoff. He's a little strange, but he's got no love for Shinra. It will be safe there for a little while."

"Cloud, you command one of the groups," said Sephiroth, making him look up. "Take Barret and Tifa. You'll head north, towards the Glacier. There's a good chance you'll run into Shinra troops, but they haven't concentrated the majority of their forces in that direction yet. You should be able to break through easily, and we'll provide you with an opening."

Cloud nodded, not questioning it, the same way he once have. It surprised him how easily he had accepted that decision. It was almost as though he was getting used to being put in command. He glanced at Barret and Tifa, both of whom nodded at him. He'd worked with them before, so this shouldn't be too hard. He could do this—_would _do this, he decided. People were counting on him.

"Zack will take Aerith, Blaire, and Yuffie," said Cissnei, turning towards him. "The four of you will make for the western exit. It's rough terrain, but almost completely unguarded. You can escape the town before things start going crazy, and you'll be well on your way north by dawn." A small smile appeared on her face. "It won't surprise me if you beat us there."

Blaire's eyes widened. "I'm not going with you?" she asked, turning towards Sephiroth.

Sephiroth said nothing, his frown tight-lipped as he turned towards Vincent. "Vincent, take Shalua, Cid, and Nanaki. Stay hidden in the town—there will be a diversion. You'll know what to look for. Seize your chance to escape then. Nanaki can track us by scent. You should be able to catch up easily."

Vincent nodded, saying nothing more. His eyes returned to the window, watching.

"Wait a sec!" she said. "Why can't I go with Vinnie?"

"We need you with Zack," said Sephiroth, turning towards her. He paused, looking over Zack and Aerith before looking back at her. "It's absolutely imperative that Aerith makes it to the Northern Crater," he said.

"Out of all of us," said Cissnei, her voice soft, "Only you, me, and Vincent have any experience in covert operations. You also have some training in wilderness survival. And you're the only one that can be spared."

Yuffie stared at her, the blanket slipping from her fingers and falling to the ground. She glanced at Zack and Aerith, at Blaire, then back at Cissnei. "You want me to…sneak them past Shinra?" she asked.

"You're not ready for leadership yet, or I'd send Vincent," said Cissnei. "But you can get them out of the town. You're ready for this." She glanced at Sephiroth, and took a breath. "We think you are," she said. "Or we wouldn't give you that much responsibility."

"You have to get them as far away from the town as possible, as quickly as you can," added Sephiroth, not looking at her. "Zack can handle any real fighting, but that should only be your last resort. Cloud's group should draw some fire to the north of the town, but nothing more than they can handle. Use them…and other things…as a cover for your escape."

"Other things…" Yuffie repeated. Her eyes widened as realization hit her, her shuriken clattering to the ground. "Leviathan," she said. "You're going to…"

Cloud stared, the truth hitting him too. Sephiroth and Cissnei had given orders to everyone, excluding only themselves. Cissnei confirmed it with her next words.

"Draw as much fire as we possibly can," she said, her expression grim. Beside her, Sephiroth said nothing, standing as still as a stone.

"There's an army out there!" said Yuffie, gesturing at the window.

"Then it's a good thing one of us has practice fighting armies," said Cissnei, "And the other would make a pretty poor Turk if she couldn't engineer a few hours of chaos. We can buy you time, but you need to be far away from here before it all dies down. If all goes well, we'll meet you at the rendezvous point."

"And if it doesn't?" asked Yuffie. "What if it _doesn't _go well?"

"Then we'd expect you to continue to the Northern Crater," said Sephiroth, sharply. "And Zack would be in command."

"I don't like it," growled Barret, under his breath. "I ain't leavin' you."

"You don't have a choice," said Sephiroth.

"Sure I do," said Barret, hefting his gunarm in his human hand. "We can go out there and fight."

"If we do that, Barret, we'll get swarmed instantly," said Cissnei, turning towards him. "Some of us might make it out, but if the thirteen of us against the whole Shinra army, someone is going to get captured. Or killed. Depending on who you ask, I'm not sure which would be the worst at this point."

Zack glanced away. Behind him, Aerith hugged her arms close to herself, not looking up at the group. Blaire held tighter to her sword. Cloud felt a chill run down his spine, remembering those days in the Mansion's basement. Glass beneath his hands, fingernails scratching, mako choking him, floating—always floating—

"Cloud?" asked Tifa, turning towards him.

He shook his head, realizing his fists were clenched. He looked up, turning back to the conversation, and saw Sephiroth looking at him. Cissnei was still talking, something about how Sephiroth could fly her out of the town when it was needed, but not all of them at once, but he ignored her, meeting the ex-SOLDIER's eyes. They regarded him, as if studying his reaction. He thought back to the conversation they'd had at the Forgotten Capital, when he had still been worried about Tifa.

_Change the world. _

He took a deep breath. "If we're going to do this, we need to hurry," he said.

Conversation stilled, and he felt the weight of everyone's eyes on him. Cloud shifted, feeling the urge to shrink back from those stares, the same way that he had before. Not this time, he told himself, clenching his fist tighter.

Not this time.

"We've been here ten minutes," he said. "They'll be here any minute now. Vincent?"

The gunslinger glanced out the window, apparently unhurried, despite the way that his thumb moved over the handle of his gun. "They're next door," he said.

"We can argue about this later," he said. His knees felt weak, he wondered if anyone noticed. Probably not, he reasoned. They weren't looking at his knees. They were looking at his face. Gaia, how did Zack and Sephiroth _do _this for long? "Right now, we have to go. Or this argument won't matter anymore."

"Cloud's right," said Zack, after a moment of hesitation. He turned back towards Sephiroth, then looked back at the others. "Seph's not that easy to kill. Let's worry about getting out of here."

"Zack, your group will go first," said Cissnei. "Yuffie will take point until you get out of the town. You _can _do that, can't you?" she asked, turning towards Yuffie.

Yuffie hesitated, looking uncertain, but a glance at the window made her nod. "I can," she said. She looked back at the two of them, as if about to say something, but shook her head, catching the pack that Zack threw at her and making her way to the door. "Come on. If we hurry, we can go around them."

Cloud stepped away from the door, letting Yuffie move through it. Behind her, Zack followed, pausing to let Aerith take Blaire by the hand and go out into the hallway in front of him. He kept his hand on the hilt of his Buster Sword, not looking back, but Cloud thought that Zack gave him a nod as he passed. The rest of them waited until their footsteps disappeared down the hallway, Vincent keeping a careful watch on the window. Cissnei counted out a careful beat on her fingers, then looked up.

"Vincent next," she said. "Find somewhere to hide."

Vincent nodded, stepping away from the window. He raised a hand to his group, walking towards the door. They fell in behind him, slipping out into the night. Cloud held his breath as he heard their footsteps start fading away, counting down the seconds in his head. He looked at Sephiroth and Cissnei, wondering if he should say something. He never got the chance. A knock sounded on the inn's front door.

"Go," said Sephiroth to him, keeping his eyes on the window.

"Don't look back," he heard Cissnei say as he turned, motioning to Tifa and Barret.

He hurried out into the hallway. When he heard the sound of glass breaking, he followed his orders.

He didn't look back, urging his group into a run.

XxXxX

Yuffie ducked her head back and away from the window as an explosion sounded from the mouth of the road, pressing herself against the wall. A patrol of infantrymen ran down the street below her, rifles out as they glanced around haphazardly. Further up the road, near where the inn was, the sounds of battle came clearly, and the smell of smoke filled the air. She heard another explosion in the distance and saw a plume of fire rise up from where it had been placed. Loud, flashy, but if the aftermath was any indicator, not that damaging. Cissnei didn't _really _want to burn Icicle Inn to the ground.

Of course, that didn't mean that Shinra wasn't going to do it for her.

The ninja turned away from the window, facing the group that huddled against the far wall, as far away from the windows as possible. The house was empty aside from them, probably a winter lodge for some rich businessman somewhere. She'd picked it on a whim, needing somewhere to hide as Shinra patrols swept the streets on their way up to the battle. They were still a few blocks away from the outskirts of the town, and while she could see how Cissnei and Sephiroth's ruse was going to make things better (more soldiers were making their way towards the inn and ignoring them), for the time being it only served to make things worse.

She dashed past Aerith, Zack, and Blaire, jogging into the kitchen. There, a pair of windows looked out on the other side of the street, the one behind them. She braced her hands on the counters, pushing herself up far enough to peer through one. The street behind them was almost empty, but about three infantrymen lingered by each end of the street, shifting their rifles from one hand to another nervously. They didn't look particularly experienced at this, and occasionally she caught them glancing in the direction of the main fight. She pulled back and away from the windows before any of them could notice her, and muttered a Wutaiian curse under her breath that would have put Cid to shame if he could understand it. The house wasn't a bad place to stay holed up until things blew over, but she wasn't supposed to do that. _Vinnie _was supposed to do that. Her job was to take Aerith and Blaire, precious cargo for two different reasons, and _haul ass_. And she really wasn't doing too good a job of that, objectively.

She settled back onto the kitchen floor, considering her options. The front door was out—that street might have been open earlier, but now it was _swarming _with soldiers. They couldn't sit here—Shinra would find them eventually. Zack could easily take the guards posted out back, but that would be seen as a failure on her part to get them out without causing any fuss, and that was just a point of pride. Besides, they looked younger than she was, and call her a softie but she didn't want to rush out there to murder green recruits if she could help it.

That left the rooftops. She scanned them critically, taking note of their height and the distances between the gaps between them and the other roofs. She, on her own, could do it, but she'd never get all four of them up there in time. Aerith wasn't much of a climber, Zack was about as stealthy as a cannon mounted on a tank, and Sephiroth would kill her if she did anything stupid with Blaire. An idea came to her, and she glanced at the rooftops again. She slipped her hands in the pockets of her pants and winter coat, feeling around for the tools she'd managed to bring with her. She had smokebombs, among other things. It was doable. She'd be cutting it really fine, but it was doable. And that was her best option in the meantime.

Yuffie slipped back into the living room, turning to face the others. "There's guards in the back," she said. "I'm gonna go distract them. While they're distracted, you guys go out the back door, turn right, and run. I'll catch up."

They didn't question her. It was an odd feeling, that. Even in Wutai, where she was supposed to be _royalty_, people always questioned her.

She kind of thought she liked it.

Zack caught her arm on her way past, squeezing lightly. "Be careful," he told her.

She nodded, the look in his eyes bringing her back down to earth. Right. This was serious. If she wasn't careful, she could still end up very much dead. Or something Rufus Shinra could use against her father. She wasn't sure which was worse. She hoped the look she gave Zack inspired confidence as he released her, letting her walk towards the stairs. She left her pack with them. Zack had no trouble carrying two, and it would only weigh her down.

The house had an attic that served as a storage room. If she remembered right, that attic also had a window. The window was frozen shut, but as a self-proclaimed professional th—_treasure hunter_, she had seen worse. She got it open with the light use of a Fire Materia, letting in the freezing air.

Leviathan, it was cold here. How did people live out here?

The attic window was small, and she knew right away that she'd made the right choice in letting Zack, Aerith, and Blaire take the backdoor. Zack would never fit through here, not with that sword of his, and Aerith wouldn't be able to slip through quickly enough to pull herself up onto the roof before the guards noticed her. Yuffie crouched behind the chimney, holding a smoke bomb in her hand. A small grin appeared on her face.

_Alright, _she thought, _time to have some fun. _

The first smoke bomb went off towards the patrols on the southern end of the street. They jumped, and Yuffie saw them arguing among themselves as they pointed their rifles in that direction, wondering whether to go investigate it. In an attempt to help things along, she jumped down into the empty street, making as much noise as possible as she ran back towards the fighting. She heard the soldiers curse and pursue her, but she was gone before they could reach her, slipping back into an alley and crouching behind a dumpster. The soldiers ran past, none of them noticing.

Patrol number one taken care of. Now for patrol number two.

She ducked out of the alley, slipping into a smaller side street. This one bordered the main street in the front of the house, the one with the majority of the fighting. Yuffie peered into the main street, running alongside it until she found what she was looking for. A single infantryman, standing alone. His different colored uniform proclaimed him a captain. She took a deep breath and slipped forward, standing the alley behind him as she summoned the effects of a Sleep Materia into her hand.

_Night, night, _she thought, holding it out towards him.

He dropped like a stone. She dashed out, quickly dragging him into the mouth of the alley before anyone could notice. There, heart pounding, she peeled off his uniform, shoving him into a pile of garbage that lay behind what might have been a restaurant. He wouldn't be pleased when he woke up, but at least he probably wouldn't freeze to death. She slipped the uniform on over her clothes. It was loose on her, but she hoped that no one would notice. She slipped the helmet on, grateful that the Shinra army hadn't quite grasped the whole faceless soldiers equals easy infiltration thing, and balanced the rifle in her hands, jogging back out into the alleyway towards the second, confused, patrol.

Alright, how was she going to do this? A little bit of Zack mixed with Sephiroth for good measure? Cissnei's coyness and professionalism? Vinnie's mystique?

Nah. This was serious. A combination of Sephiroth and Godo. She was going put the fear of a higher power in these men.

"Soldiers," she said sharply, drawing up to them. She made her voice seem lower, more intimidating. "Change of orders. You're needed at the inn."

They jumped to attention at the sound of it, a few of them shooting her startled looks. Yuffie fought off the urge to grin, drawing herself up taller and giving them a stern look from beneath her helmet and a scowl. They didn't even notice the poor fit of her uniform.

"Um—ma'am?" one of them said, the other two nudging him forward. "The Captain ordered us to stay here. Ma'am."

"The Captain's down," she said. "You're under my command now. We require reinforcements. Go."

They hesitated. Her eyes narrowed at them, and she took a step forward. "Did I stutter?" she asked.

A round of terrified salutes, and they took off running. Yuffie waited until they were gone, then ducked back into the hallway, gulping a breath of cold air. She grinned to herself, resisting the urge to let out a whoop of exultation. Leviathan, that was _fun_! The ninja tugged her helmet off her head and tossed it aside, ditching the rifle too as she jogged to keep up with Aerith, Zack and Blaire. She met them at the city outskirts, still grinning. They stared at her as she jogged past them, shedding her captain's coat. Was it her imagination, or did they actually look _impressed_?

Well, they should be. It wasn't every day that she pulled off something like that. Heck, she hadn't been sure that she _could _do it, not that she'd ever tell them that. Now, they were home free. Just a few more feet, and then they could disappear into the Glacier, where the cold and monsters were the only thing they had to worry about.

Just a few more feet.

Almost there.

Not much longer now.

Almost there.

"Hold it right there!"

Crap. Yuffie skidded to a stop, Zack, Aerith, and Blaire behind her. Aerith moved to push Blaire behind her, gripping onto her staff as Zack placed a hand on the hilt of his Buster Sword. She reached for her shuriken, looking around.

It was Elena.

The Turk stood alone outside the village, barring their way to freedom. She looked more confident than she had the last time Yuffie had seen her, but then again, they'd been hanging from a mountain back then. Her suit still looked a little bit big for her, as though she was dwarfed by it, but she actually looked halfway intimidating as she stood in their way.

It was the suit, Yuffie thought. The suit could make anyone look intimidating.

"Elena," she said.

"Yuffie," said Elena, nodding at her.

Zack started to draw his sword. Yuffie glanced between him and the young Turk, taking a deep breath. On a gamble, she reached out and placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. Elena's eyes moved from Zack, to Yuffie, to the city behind her. Yuffie noticed a reluctance in the Turk's posture, the way her eyes moved over Aerith before skipping past and moving towards the city again.

Weird how she looked at Aerith. Not like a target at all. Almost…

…Almost like a rival. Like someone she was trying to match up to.

Wasn't _Elena _the one that had a crush on Tseng?

"You're not here for us," she said, taking a chance.

Elena said nothing, but moved her eyes back to Yuffie. From the look of her, she was trying very hard to keep the words in. Yuffie took another breath, pushing forward. "You weren't sent here for us," she said. "You were sent here for another reason."

No words, but the fact that Elena didn't deny it confirmed it. The Turk's eyes moved back to the city again.

"Any chance we could let this slide?" asked Yuffie, drawing Elena's attention back to her.

Silence. She felt as though the Turk was considering it.

"Da Chao," Yuffie continued. "We helped each other then."

Elena held Yuffie's gaze for a moment longer before sighing, her shoulders slumping in resignation. Her eyes moved past Yuffie, towards the wasteland behind her. "Not because of Da Chao," she said, stepping aside. Her eyes landed on Aerith again. "The Temple of the Ancients. I owe you one. For saving my boss, I mean."

Oh, yes. She was _definitely _the one that had a crush on Tseng. Well, no accounting for taste, but Yuffie wasn't going to question her good fortune. She waved a hand, encouraging Zack, Aerith, and Blaire to go ahead of her. She let them get a good enough head start, then moved to follow.

"Yuffie," said Elena as they passed.

Yuffie turned around, frowning at her. Ahead of her, Zack and Aerith came to a stop as well, Aerith still holding onto Blaire's hand. "Yeah?" she asked.

The Turk glanced back at her. "I tried to stop you," she said, meeting Yuffie's eyes.

The ninja paused, then grinned. "It was the most epic battle never fought," she said. "I even let you get a couple hits in."

That earned her a smile from the blond Turk, one that she quickly turned away to hide. Yuffie didn't understand why they all wanted to be so _serious_. Not that she wanted them to be all like Reno or anything, but didn't these military types know how to smile? "That's what I thought," said Elena, raising her hand in parting.

Yuffie thought about saying something more, but glanced back at Zack and Aerith, deciding not to waste their good fortune. Another crashing sound and the sound of gunfire rang through the town—whatever Sephiroth and Cissnei were doing was obviously messing things up. She looked back over her shoulder, but Elena was already running, her gun in her hand as she jogged to the center of town. The ninja turned away, looking back to the others.

She found herself hoping Sephiroth and Cissnei wouldn't mess with her too much. Heck, she kind of _liked _Elena. For a Turkey.

No use thinking about it right now, though. They were _really _exposed out here, and people were counting on her. She might not be world's most reliable teammate, but sneaking around, at least, was something that she _could _do.

She set off at a jog, heading towards the thin fringes of forest that surrounded the village. She waved at Zack and Aerith as she passed, the two of them moving as well.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	8. File 038: Northward Bound pt3

**Final Fantasy VII: Another Story**

**By:**

**Mystwalker**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Final Fantasy VII.

**A/N**: Nothing like a few extended lab days to encourage you to write while instruments are running. Hope you guys like this chapter! There's going to be one more 'escape from Icicle Inn' chapter, and then we'll get moving again.

Thanks go to **JazzQueen, Isayan Jesmayan, dante67, Irish-Brigid, CupofTeaforAliceandHatter, Eavenne, DJ Meltdown of Ground Xero, Meteor Panda, Gameplayer23, SakiWatari, Riku Uzumaki, **and **Draconic **for the reviews and support. Glad you all liked the Yuffie sequence from the previous chapter. Hope this one lives up to expectations!

**Gameplayer23, **your wish is my…well, my strongly considered suggestion, XD. Enjoy this chapter!

XxXxX

**File 038: Northward Bound**

Vincent threw out his hand as the sounds of battle drew closer to them, gesturing for the other three to take cover. They did, ducking into a sidestreet. He followed, twisting out of the way of the main street and pressing his back against the wall as a platoon of infantrymen ran past, holding rifles in both hands. Another one of Cissnei's bombs went off in the distance, a loud blast and a flash of light.

Beside him, Cid cursed loudly, turning towards the source of the explosion. "Dammit," he said. "What's she doing with those things? Blowing up the whole $# )ing town?"

"It's a distraction," said Shalua, before he could reply. He glanced at the scientist, watching as she turned towards the explosions, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her human hand. "They're more for show than anything else. They don't cause that much damage."

"That's not gonna stop Shinra from tearing the place apart looking for her," grumbled Cid.

Vincent leaned his head out of the alleyway, scanning the street. It was clear. "That's why we won't be here," he said, not looking back at Cid. He stepped out of the alleyway, motioning to the others to follow him. They did, walking a few feet behind him. As they hurried to catch up with him, he heard Cid say that he was cold.

Fair enough, he decided, pausing at an intersection to scan the street. He would be cold if that was what he needed to be. It was all that was left to him now.

They were still too close to the area near the inn, where the majority of the fighting was happening. Vincent knew enough about Shinra's strategies to know that the company wouldn't leave any stone overturned in that area. Nowhere was a safe haven. They needed to find somewhere closer to the outskirts of the city, away from the patrols, to hide until things calmed down enough for them to slip out. Their opportunity would come sometime after Sephiroth and Cissnei left, but before Shinra could get organized enough for one final sweep. He estimated that they had at least an hour until then.

He brought them across, towards the other side of the street, pulled them out of the way of an oncoming patrol, and unholstered his weapon. The shortbarrel shotgun that Yuffie had given him fit comfortably in his grip. Wutai had always been something of perfectionists in their weaponscraft. Apparently, that hadn't changed in his thirty years underground.

He pulled back the hammer, glancing back at the others. "Weapons out," he told them, stepping out into the street.

Shalua said nothing, but nodded, reaching across herself and gripping her pistol in her working hand. Beside her, Cid snorted in disdain, shifting his grip on his spear. He'd been holding the weapon since they left the inn. Nanaki carried no weapons, but he shifted his posture, looking more alert.

"You even listening to us, Valentine?" asked Cid. "Shinra'll tear this town apart."

Vincent's response was to hold his hand up, stopping them as they neared the mouth of the street. Patrols in this area were more sporadic. This was still closer to the inn than he would have liked to be, but it was unlikely that they would find a better place to hide in the meantime. Cloud and his group would reach the northern border soon. He didn't want to start north until then.

"We'll hide in that building," said Vincent, pointing at the house across the street from them. The snow that had accumulated on its doorstep told him that no one had occupied it for a while. A vacation home, most likely. Icicle Inn had more than a few of those, mostly owned by high-ranking Shinra employees. In the off-season, they stood empty. "I'll inspect it. Nanaki, with me."

Nanaki followed him as he crossed the street, walking towards the house. Behind him, Cid let out a disgusted huff, shrinking back into the alley with Shalua.

"Forget it," he heard Cid say as he left. "You don't care. Keep forgetting you were a Turk."

Vincent reached the door, Nanaki beside him. He didn't bother with the lock, instead opening the door with a well-placed kick. Wood splintered beneath his foot, the door swinging open and revealing a dusty living room. He stepped inside, tracking mud and snow. Nanaki followed him, stepping lightly around the door.

"Was that wise?" he asked, looking back at it as Vincent moved deeper into the house.

"Shinra doesn't bother picking locks," said Vincent, walking down the hallway. He held his gun out in front of him, leading with it around corners. "They're less likely to inspect this place if they think it's already been inspected."

"It leaves us exposed, though, doesn't it?" asked Nanaki, uncertain.

"Not if we can find the panic room," said Vincent, opening the door to the master bedroom.

"There's a panic room?" asked Nanaki, following after him.

"This is a high-ranking Shinra employee's residence," said Vincent, gesturing with his gun at a framed picture on the wall. It held the Shinra company's red diamond logo. He gave the desk a cursory inspection. "There's always a panic room."

He felt alongside the wall, testing the wooden paneling. After a moment, he stepped back, triggering something with his gauntleted hand. A section of wall slid open, revealing a metal door. Vincent keyed in the code he had found in the desk drawer. The door opened, revealing a small, bare room. Nanaki examined it, his tail flickering back and forth as he peered into the room.

"It's small," he said. "Will we all fit?"

"We will," said Vincent, turning to head back out the door. "Wait here."

Nanaki nodded, taking a step into the room. Vincent took a step out into the hallway, again leading with his gun. He paused, then turned in the direction of the door, meaning to go back for Shalua and Cid.

"Vincent," said Nanaki, stopping him. He looked back over his shoulder, frowning at the creature. "Don't listen to Cid. He's only upset because of what's happening. He knows you're doing what you can."

Vincent paused, saying nothing as he stood with his back to the safe room. He knew that Nanaki had just expressed support, and that what was said warranted some sort of reply, but he didn't know what. The man he had been would have known what to say, but not the man he had become. He ran his thumb across the handle of his gun, considering. Behind him, Nanaki waited, not interrupting.

He started forward, moving down the hallway. "Don't worry," he heard himself say. "I never listen to Cid anyway."

He left Nanaki in the safe room, heading back out into the street. Cid and Shalua were where he left them, standing in the mouth of the alley with weapons in hand. He inclined his head towards the house and walked towards it, letting them follow him. For once, Cid didn't complain, hefting his spear onto his shoulder and stomping off towards the house. He glanced at Shalua, wondering if the two of them had talked while he and Nanaki were away. The scientist looked away, not meeting his eyes as they stepped through the broken door into the house. Cid wasn't looking at him either.

The three of them stepped into the safe room, Vincent closing the door behind them. They said nothing to each other as they took up places around the room, weapons in hand.

A distant explosion rocked the building just as Vincent closed the door.

XxXxX

It was chaos in the streets.

Cloud ran with his sword in his hands, Tifa and Barret following behind him. The blade, a large sword with a curved hooking edge that he had just bought from the weapon shop in Icicle Inn, was already bloodied. They had come across their first contingent of Shinra soldiers shortly after leaving the inn. Since then, they'd dodged two patrols, narrowly missing getting shot by the last one in their mad dash to the town's northern gate.

He ran at a moderate pace, scanning the way ahead for any obstacles. He could practically hear his heart; it was beating so loud inside his chest. He knew he could run faster. He could feel it inside of him, feel his blood racing, his body straining to do _more_, run faster, fight harder. But Tifa and Barret couldn't go any faster than this, so he held himself back, moving steadily through the streets. He didn't allow himself to think too much about what was going on behind him, about the periodic explosions that kept ringing, shaking the streets. He couldn't worry about what was happening with the others, not when he had so much to worry about himself. They'd escaped with so little time to spare already. If they had stayed to argue it out…

They'd have had to fight their way out of town after all. And while they would have made it, he wasn't sure they would have all made it out in one piece. With so many people to keep track of, and a handful who were still too injured to fight, it wouldn't have ended well.

If he hadn't said anything…

Ahead of him, Barret shouted a warning. Cloud put the thought out of his mind, shifting his sword to his right hand. He pivoted to the side, pulling the flat of the blade up across his chest. Bullets struck it, three of them pinging against the flat of the blade. Three infantrymen, standing a few feet away from them to the right. Two of them had crouched down, one of them was standing. All three of them were prepared to open fire.

Behind him, Barret hunkered down, raising his gun arm. A hail of bullets tore through the air, forcing the infantrymen to jump back to avoid getting hit. Tifa launched herself forward, grabbing hold of the standing infantryman's rifle as he tried to swing it towards her. She held onto it with both hands and jerked upward, slamming the butt of the rifle into his face. As he fell back, she pulled the gun out of his hands, tossing it aside and spinning around, delivering a kick to the underside of the second infantryman's jaw. He dropped his rifle, and she spun in place, her other foot flying out to catch him in the chest. The third infantryman leveled his rifle at her, but he didn't manage to get far. Cloud's sword cut through the air, slicing cleanly through the gun. He dropped it in surprise, giving Cloud the opening to step in and use the hilt of his sword to hit the infantryman in the face.

He fell, and it was quiet again. Cloud saw the infantryman that Tifa had kicked scramble to his feet, one hand around his chest as he tried to get away. Barret raised his gun arm towards him, but Cloud raised a hand, stopping him. He turned towards Tifa, who was bouncing slightly on her heels, rubbing at her shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded at him and the three of them started running again. Cloud settled back into place at the head of the group, mentally counting down the blocks in his head. They couldn't be that much farther from the gate. Surely it wasn't _that _much farther. He looked back over his shoulder at the sound of gunfire and saw that Barret was firing at the windows of the nearest building, displacing a pair of infantrymen that had hunkered down to shoot at them as they moved through the streets. Glass shattered in their wake, and the infantrymen threw themselves to the ground. Beside him, Tifa pointed at the street ahead, shouting in alarm.

"There!" she said.

Cloud turned, slowing to a stop. He picked up speed again as shots rang out, grabbing Tifa by the arm and pulling her around the side of a building for cover. Bullets struck stone, pinging off of the corner of the building and ricocheting into the snow. A few feet away from them, Barret crouched down behind a table he had kicked over, returning fire. He craned his neck as far around the corner as he dared, taking in the street. They'd reached a point where the main road branched off into three smaller streets, one heading due north and the other two heading northwest and northeast. All three streets were occupied by groups of infantrymen, all firing at them. It was the perfect place for a trap.

"Cloud…" said Tifa beside him.

He looked down, realizing that he was still holding her by the arm, keeping her close to him. He quickly released her, turning away to hide the flush on his face. "Sorry," he said.

"It's fine," said Tifa, rubbing at her arm. "What do we do?"

He thought about it. He could take a bullet hit and be fine—his mako enhancements provided him with that much—but the same couldn't be said for Tifa and Barret. There were no buildings close enough to the streets for them to take to the rooftops and surprise them, and if they couldn't get close, it was going to be hard to disable the shooters. He didn't think he could take them all and still be fit to lead Tifa and Barret out of town—with three squads covering three directions, if he stepped out of cover, he was guaranteed to get hit.

He looked up at the sky, wondering how long it would take before Shinra sent a group to close up their retreat. Shinra wouldn't have just sent infantrymen to a place where they knew the likes of Sephiroth and Zack would be waiting. There were SOLDIER squads in town—he would bet anything on it. Sephiroth might keep them distracted for a while, but how long until some of them came for him? The infantrymen didn't even need to do anything, they just needed to stop the three of them from leaving.

This place was the perfect spot for an ambush, and he'd led them right to it. He should have seen that coming. He should have seen—.

No. He clenched his fist. No. That wouldn't help. He'd have time to think about what he should have done later. Now what he had to do was keep them alive.

Three pathways. And three of them. The three of them couldn't rush out into the fight. That would be suicide. But they had other options available to them, besides physical strength.

"Shiva," he told Tifa. "Do you still have Shiva?"

Tifa nodded. She turned her gloved hand around, exposing the red light that gleamed in the weapon's Materia slot. He held onto his sword, feeling the summon Materia within it. The beginnings of a plan started to form in his head. "Come on," he told Tifa, dashing out from the alleyway and running towards Barret. He scrambled into cover, resting his back against the table as Barret leaned over and fired. Behind him, Tifa followed, dropping to the ground as bullets whizzed over their heads. She looked pale, but otherwise unharmed.

"You better have a plan, Spike!" Barret yelled over the roar of his gun arm. He pulled back, dropping behind the table.

"Ifrit," Cloud told Barret. "You still have it?"

"Yeah," said Barret, nodding. "Got it right here."

Cloud looked between Tifa and Barret, considering. It was a risky plan, but staying here was riskier. They needed to move—they didn't have time to think for long. "On the count of three," said Cloud, gesturing with his hand. "We use our summons. Tifa, you attack the road on the left. Barret, take the right. I'll take the center. As soon as the summons distract them, we run for it, taking the center path. We'll fight our way through and keep running."

He expected argument, but Tifa and Barret both nodded, turning so that they were facing that side of the street. Tifa checked her gloves, and Barret reloaded his gun. Cloud took a breath, keeping a hand on his sword. "One…" he counted.

There was a hiss. A compartment in Barret's gunarm opened, spewing out empty shells. They sank into the snow, steam rising from them.

"Two…"

Barret's gun arm clicked back into place; he heard the sound of the safety being pulled back. Beside him, Tifa flexed her fingers, clenching them into a fist. He readied himself to jump, feeling for the Materia inside his sword. He could hear his heart beat.

"Three!"

They exploded out of cover, Tifa running out towards the left and Barret running towards the right. Cloud placed one hand on the table, vaulting clean over it and extending a hand out towards the central path. Before any of the infantrymen could fire, light flooded the square. To his right, a hulking figure of fire appeared, the snow and ice melting around it as it roared and charged at the infantryman. They scattered. To his right, ahead of Tifa, a woman appeared in the ice, holding out her hand. The ice _beneath _the infantrymen moved, buckling and trapping them as Tifa rushed forward. And ahead of him…

Cloud grabbed onto the Chocobo's reins with his free hand as it passed, leaping into the saddle behind the Moogle. The bird didn't react, lowering its head and continuing with its charge. He held the reins in one hand, extending his sword out with the other as the soldiers in front of him scattered, throwing themselves to the ground. As he passed, he swung his sword, cutting down two soldiers that tried to rush at him, The bird struck another one that couldn't get away fast enough—he felt the impact, but the chocobo continued running. He released the reins, sliding off the back as the bird continued forward, disappearing into the distance.

Cloud spun, countering an attack from one of the remaining infantrymen. His sword knocked the infantryman's rifle out of his hands easily, and he continued turning, sweeping the soldier's foot out from under him. The man crashed into the snow, scrambling backwards quickly. Cloud let him go, turning around and looking for the others. Those that weren't dead were gone, probably fled. He lowered his sword, turning to look for Tifa and Barret. They were supposed to be right behind him, but he thought he had seen the soldiers Shiva had attacked rushing Tifa. He ran back to the mouth of the street, looking for them.

"Cloud!" shouted Tifa from his right.

He turned quickly, facing her. She was standing at the mouth of the northeastern street, a ring of unconscious soldiers around her. He started towards her, but she pointed back the way they had come and he turned, his eyes widening.

Something big was coming towards them, marching down the street. Something inhuman. He saw its shadow first, then heard a mechanical whir, then finally saw the creature itself. A machine, painted yellow, with crude feet that stomped towards where the three of them were. It had no head, and instead of arms, it had two whirring saw blades. A Chain Machine, he remembered it was called. One of Shinra's unmanned weapons. Except he remembered these being slower. Clearly, they had had a few upgrades since the last time he had seen them.

His heart raced as he watched the machine running towards them, blades extended. He glanced at Tifa and Barret, and saw that the two of them had stepped up so that they were on the same line as he was, ready to fight. No, he thought, looking from them to the machine. No, this was wrong. If Shinra had one of these things, they had more of them. Even if they managed to defeat this one, they wouldn't be able to do it quickly. If they lingered here, reinforcements would come.

SOLDIER units. Sephiroth couldn't keep them _all _occupied for long. They couldn't afford to waste time here. But they couldn't all run away either. This thing would outrun them, and the thought of those saw blades, slicing into their backs—

No. He knew what he had to do.

"Run!" he told Tifa and Barret, holding his sword in both hands.

"What?" asked Tifa from beside him, at the same time as Barret shouted, "Are you _crazy_?"

"We have to keep moving!" he said. "There's more where that came from! Run!"

"What about you?" asked Tifa, turning towards him.

"I'll be fine," said Cloud. "I'll slow him down and catch up. Go!" He didn't wait to see if they followed, gripping his sword in both hands and rushing towards the machine. Behind him, he heard Barret curse, heard Tifa scream his name.

And then there was nothing but the whir of those blades.

XxXxX

The sounds of battle were faint inside the panic room, but he could still hear them, faint shouts and the sounds of gunfire coming in from the other side of the walls. A glance at Shalua and Cid told him that they could not, which didn't surprise him. Nanaki, however, sat with his ears perked up, his head swiveling towards every faint sound. His senses were as strong as Vincent's own—that didn't surprise him either. It was simply a reminder of all he had become, and all that he had lost. He sat with his back against the wall, his hand on his gun as he listened to the sounds. He guessed, from the direction the shouts were coming from, that the battle at the inn was still going on, and that Cloud's group had met with the guards at the gate.

Cid, he supposed, itched to be joining them. The pilot was seated against the wall with his spear resting against his torso, the point just over his right shoulder. Vincent didn't miss the way he favored his left side. He was still weak from his fight with Weiss, and he was left-handed, as Sephiroth was. The fact that his dominant side had taken the brunt of the damage wouldn't help him in a fight. He suspected, although of course he couldn't be certain, that that was why Sephiroth had asked him to hide them. Cid and Shalua, that was. Nanaki's purpose in their group wasn't hard to guess at either. With them forced to stay behind while the others fled, the rest of their number would have a head start. Between his own ability to see in the dark and Nanaki's ability to track by scent, they would have an easier time catching up.

It was good planning, similar to what he himself might have thought of. And he didn't mind the waiting.

_**She comes. **_

At least, he didn't often mind the waiting.

Vincent sat up straighter at the sound of the voice, his hands tightening on the grip of his gun. He knew Shalua was approaching him. That wasn't what had bothered him. That voice…

He'd been hearing that voice more often, of late. In the past, he would only hear it once or twice, and then only in his deepest nightmares. It wasn't like the other presences inside his head. Those were beasts, animalistic representations of some force. They felt things—anger, hatred, even fear. They didn't reason. They didn't speak. This voice did. It sounded cold, calculating, almost human.

It scared him more than any of the others combined.

"That's a Wutaiian gun," said Shalua, settling in next to him.

He didn't look at her, staring at the wall ahead of him. Behind her, he heard the low undercurrent of another round of gunfire.

Shalua went on. "Did Yuffie give it to you?"

The Gold Saucer. A gift, wrapped in brown paper. Yuffie seated cross-legged in a chair, her face lit by the distant fireworks. Red. Blue. Gold. The memory was suddenly vivid and real, a splash of color against the dark background of his past. It was a thing that should not have been allowed to exist.

Dangerous.

He didn't let go of the gun.

"The two of you are close, aren't you?" asked Shalua after a while.

Vincent did not respond. This was not a subject for discussion. Instead, he turned his head slightly, facing the woman beside him.

"Why are you really here?" he asked.

Shalua hesitated, dropping her gaze away from his. She took a breath, staring at the floor for a moment before looking back at his face.

"Vincent," she said, her tone level. "You know I trained as a doctor."

He looked away from her, nodding once. His hand tightened around his gun. Memories came back to him, confronting Hojo, getting shot, pain, so much pain, and awakening to find himself a monster.

"What did they do to you?" asked Shalua, shifting closer towards him.

"Nothing you can fix." Vincent stood up, turning his back towards her. He stepped away, moving out of her reach and facing the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cid look up, turning towards him expectantly. Nanaki raised his head from where he was lying. Vincent listened, but while he could still hear the gunfire and shouts, they were coming farther and farther apart, and sounded as though they were shifting direction. The battles were dying down. Soon, Sephiroth and Cissnei would pull out. Shinra would stop fighting, and would start redoubling their efforts to secure the town.

"Are we leaving now?" asked Nanaki, sitting up.

Vincent nodded, pushing the door to the safe room open.

"Follow me," he said, stepping out of the room and raising his gun.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


End file.
